Love and Lies
by Evergreen98
Summary: Padmé lives in a world of painful memories, in a galaxy shadowed by the dark Empire. Darth Vader has been given a new mission by his master. . .and this assignment starts with her. Will Padmé see through his facade, or will Vader succeed in his mission? How far will their lies go? (suitless Vader)
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this idea has just been floating in my mind for a while.**

**In this Vader looks like Anakin during RotS.**

**Enjoy, and please comment on if I should continue!**

**~ * O * ~**

"Padmé, did you hear me?"

The young woman's eyes snap back into focus as the words break through her senses, and it takes her a moment to adjust her thought process back to the current situation. Slowly she turns her attention to the person sitting beside her, a familiar figure. His face plainly shows his blatant concern.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," Padmé says quietly, and she tries to force a small smile.

Bail Organa stares at her for a long moment, and she can see the waves of concern in her old friends gaze.

"That's what worries me," he says, careful to keep his voice quiet as well.

Any traces of a smile, forced or not, disappear from Padmé's lips at his words. The blank mask slips back into place, and her eyes easily reflect the pools of sadness within.

Padmé turns away from her old friend, her mentor, to face the room before her. The flow of senators entering slows to a trickle as the time for the meeting grows ever nearer.

"I don't want to discuss this," Padmé says, and she struggles not to snap. Bail doesn't deserve the swirl of feelings that live within her.

Bail sighs lightly, but he doesn't press further on the issue. He knows by now that this will only push her further away.

They sit in silence for several long minutes, before Bail attempts speech again. Padmé tenses slightly when he speaks, but she relaxes a bit when he doesn't return to earlier topics.

"As to what I was saying earlier, when your mind was elsewhere," Bail says quietly, "I was wondering if you going to the charity ball in a few days. It will be good for you to get out, and meet some people."

A smile of grim amusement tugs at Padmé's lips, and dry humor alights in her eyes. For a moment it washes the sadness away.

"Social gatherings aren't exactly my forte anymore," Padmé murmurs softly, "you, of all people, should know this by now."

Bail gazes sadly at the young woman, and a frown of his own tugs at his mouth.

"Please, Padmé. It will be good for you."

Padmé gazes up at her friend, and her heart clenches at the worry she sees. She hates how Bail worries over her.

He and Breha have been so good to her. They took her under their wings after her entire world fell apart, and they made her a part of their family. They even tried to mend the broken pieces of her heart.

But Padmé knows nothing will work in fixing the holes that have been ripped in her soul.

"I'll think about it," Padmé murmurs, deciding to try her best to appease her old friend and his worries.

A smile immediately appears on the man's face, but Padmé feels nothing of his happiness. She does fake a smile for his benefit.

"I'll give you details about a time later," Bail mutters to Padmé, his excitement at her consideration showing in his expression.

Second thoughts and half formed excuses immediately begin to form in Padmé's mind, and her subconscious screams that she can still back out.

Just as Padmé opens her mouth to speak in reply, perhaps to voice her second thoughts, the atmosphere in the room changes sharply. Padmé shivers at the almost tangible rush of sudden cold.

Padmé doesn't have to turn to see who has entered the room. The sudden silence and fearful glances are enough clues as to who has entered the meeting chamber.

All around her people hurry to their seats as the new figure strides to his place at the head of the room. Padmé gets a glimpse of the man as he walks briskly past.

Darth Vader.

One of the most dangerous men in the entire galaxy.

For a vague moment, Padmé thinks back to those days long ago, when the name Darth Vader was only a whisp of gossip.

In the beginning, when the emporer's pet first came into play, some scoffed at him. At the time he was still a youth, just a young teenager.

As a boy he was sent to the front lines, where the fighting was fiercest. His master, the emperor, sent the almost child to deal with some of the more daring strains of rebel resistance.

Soon all learned to fear him.

Padmé sometimes forgets that he is actually a few years younger than her twenty six year old self. Precisely five years difference make up their age gap to be exact.

_I am aging fast_, Padmé thinks grimly, _What would Sola say? I'm fast approaching thirty, and I'm not anyhwere close to marriage. . .she'd have a fit!_

With the burst of amusement this thought brings, also comes a wave of sadness. Immediatly Padmé struggles to block those memories away, to lock them up where they wont slip out again.

Padmé draws in a long, slow breath, and she slowly releases it. Only after repeating this action several times does the sharp pain in her chest start to fade slightly.

Padmé struggles to focus back on the topic at hand, something Senator Yuma is saying. . .

**~ * O * ~**

Darth Vader sits at the head of the table, and in light of the oppressive boredom that hangs over the room he lazily searches the emotions of those around him.

Vader gave up listening to whatever this fool of a senator had to say approximately two minutes into his speech.

Even now the man drones on about some law or another. Vader is sure he has heard droids with more emotions in their voices.

But, while the man lacks passion, he still presses on. He obviously does care about the tax policy, or whatever it is he is speaking about. He talks as though he hopes to change things in the galaxy.

As if his petty speech will actually make a difference. As if the emperor actually cares about anyone other than himself.

Vader struggles not to laugh at that very amusing thought.

Instead, he adds a few details to his plan. His plan for when he finally rises to power, when he defeats his master.

_Destroy all politicians. Specifically, but not limited to: senators_, Vader grimly thinks. That will surely make the galaxy a better place.

Vader sighs slightly, and he shifts his eyes to the chronometer on the wall. The minutes seem to crawl by, almost as if time is actually standing still.

This is surely one of the worst punishments he has ever received from his master. Vader would much rather be hit by a quick burst of lightning than endure. . .this.

But, of course, his master knows that. After thirteen years spent together, his master knows absolutely everything about him. Just as Vader knows quite a bit about his old mentor.

This will make overthrowing the man both harder and easier.

In fact, the man probably already suspects his apprentices plans of treachery. Even now he is probably planning Vader's imminent demise. . .

Vader draws his mind away from such paranoid thoughts, and he instead focuses on reading the emotions of those around him.

The feelings of others swirl around him, their unprotected minds laying as clear and easy to read as open books.

_Annoyance. Boredom. Lust. Fear. Worry. Concern. Happiness. Anger._

Nothing unusual, nothing strange or interesting. Slowly, Vader begins to draw his mind back.

Then is hits him.

The feelings are so powerful, and so intense that he struggles to keep from physically reacting to the wave of sudden pain that he feels. Quickly Vader stretches out his senses to search for this wounded individual.

The emotions swirl around him, and he feels almost as if he is drowning in this sorrow and pain. it doesn't take long for him to locate the individual from where the strong emotions come.

Senator Amidala.

He senses waves of pain and sorrow in a quick flash, before the feelings are suddenly gone. Somehow the young woman manages to bottle these feelings up again.

_Strange._

But as the powerful torrent of emotion fades, so does Vader's interest. Without this to distract him, his mind quickly flies back to the reason why he is forced to remain here. Hatred fills him as he thinks of his long vanished prey.

_If only I hadn't lost that blasted Jedi. . ._

**~ * O * ~**

The moment the meeting ends, Padmé rushes back to the privacy of her office. She passes her secretary without a second glance, as she is already struggling to keep her emotions contained.

The seal she managed to lock in place during the meeting is quickly slipping away, and it takes all of Padmé's self-control to keep herself from bursting into tears.

The moment the door slides shut behind her, she immediately collapses against the surface.

Padmé rests her head back against the cool frame, and she closes her eyes. A sudden wave of weariness washes over her, and she struggles to keep from collapsing on the ground. Somehow she manages to drag herself over to one of the many chairs in her office.

She throws herself down on the chair, and immediately the emotions of the day wash over her. With this, come the memories.

_The screams and fires. Her home in flames. The anguished cry of a child, of a mother, of a friend._

Unlike back at the meeting room, Padmé is unable to suppress the memories of that time. Instead, they flow over her in waves.

Padmé stares unseeing at the view of Coruscant before her. Her eyes trail the line of buildings in the distance, almost as though she is searching desperately for something lost long ago.

Her eyes sting slightly, and Padmé numbly brings a hand to her cheek. She is not surprised to see it come away wet.

Padmé sits alone in her chair, and she stares out over the city. Silent tears stream down her cheeks, and Padmé makes no move to stop their flow.

_So this is what my life has become._

_**~ * O * ~**_

Vader sits in front of his desk, and his eyes slowly trail the list of names before him.

Finally his master has given him a moderatly interesting test. Of course it is not the exciting task of tracking down a Jedi, but it is better than the bland roll of senate meetings and social gatherings that has become his life.

This time, unlike his failure with in tracking down that Jedi, Vader will not fail.

So, he searches through the list of probable rebel alliance members.

The list is quite long, and most of the names it contains are probably completly innocent.

But, for some reason or another, they were put on the list.

As Vader skims through the details concerning every member on the list, the minutes quickly bleed into hours. The light fades outside, until the sky is tinged dark.

Vader has not moved from his spot. He sits in silent vigil over the list. A particular name has caught his attention, and even now plans spin through his mind.

Because this name is special.

This person is not some simple informant. No. Intelligence shows that this suspect is possibly one of the higher ups of the operation.

There are even traces of evidence that point to this individual might be one of the main leaders of the group.

So, naturally, Vader decides this will the best starting point.

Vader begins to sift through the piles of information that are stored on this senator from Alderaan.

Bail Organa.

Vader skims through lists of family members and friends. He sees frequent stopping places and daily routines.

But, what catches Vader's attention, is his list of associates. This is when a plan really begins to form in his mind.

Going directly to the source will immediately trigger alarm. Vader knows that Bail would instantly figure out his intentions.

Instead, Vader will have to take the longer route. One that will require ample amouts of planning.

So, with the small grains of ideas forming in his mind, Vader begins to shift through the lists of associates. The groups are broken down into those he spends the most time with, and the extent of their relations.

It doesn't take long for Vader to find his intended target. In the end, it is quite a simple process.

Padmé Amidala.

The beautiful senator from the planet of Naboo. The woman who was once young queen of the planet before the empire was created. She ruled in a time when the world was still prosperous.

Though the young senator herself is not a suspect, Vader already believes she will be the perfect way to get to Bail Organa.

The two are quite close, their relationship like that of a father and daughter, or of two siblings.

It will not be easy to get her to spill anything on Organa, but she will certainly know more than most others.

Quickly the pieces begin to fall into place. The charity ball only a few nights from today will be the perfect chance to enact this new plan.

A dark smirk takes place on Vader's face as he slides from his desk.

Time to alert his master of his plans. He will need the older man's approval before he moves forward with any of this.

But, if after all these years Vader knows anything . . . it is that his master loves elaborate schemes. Having another completely at ones mercy . . . his master lives for that.

Vader glances back at the data pad once more. Its screen is currently revealing a slide of the young woman from Naboo.

The picture is quite recent, and, for just a moment, Vader can almost see the sadness he sensed from the woman earlier reflected in her eyes.

This small lapse of thought is quickly gone, as Vader shoves it away. A dark smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he stares down at the holo.

_We'll see how easy you are to break,_ Vader thinks to himself.

He then turns away, and walks briskly out the door.

He and his master have plans to make.

**~ * O * ~**

**So, should I continue? Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy!**

**Oh yeah, little side note in case it is confusing: Padmé is not a part of the rebel alliance**

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé slowly walks through the crowded room. All around her are chattering couples, men and women are laughing happily in each other's company.

People are everywhere, and Padmé can feel the judging gazes that pass over her as she walks by.

_And this is why I absolutely despise social_ gatherings, Padmé thinks to herself. Already she knows that this will be quite a long and dreadful evening.

Padmé quickly threads her way through the mass of bodies to the edge of the room, where she can finally breathe.

She positions herself in a small alcove, one where she can easily observe the scene surrounding her.

When a server walks past she slips a glass of champagne from his tray and she idly sips from it as she scans the room. Unfamiliar faces leap out at her, and their laughter is deafening in her ears.

Padmé is hoping to locate a familiar face in the sea of people, someone like Bail or Mon.

At this point she would take just about anyone over the oppression of sitting alone on the sidelines.

"Ah, Senator Amidala. I was unaware that you would be attending the ball tonight."

Padmé immediately stiffens at the sudden familiar tone, and she slowly turns to face the speaker.

_Maybe being alone wasn't so bad. . ._

Before her stands Senator Jon Terric. He is a human of about thirty years old. His appearance is rather generic at first sight, with his easily forgettable face.

If he weren't an extremely influential player among the emperor's trusted advisors, he would be quite an average man.

As it is, he is one of the emperor's most loyal supporters, and because of this he has quite a level of power. This is enough for most women to look past his dull appearance, and as a result Terric has his pick of any woman he desires.

Apparently Padmé is now included in that list as well.

Padmé plasters a smile on her face as she beholds the man, not at all pleased about any conversation she will be forced to have with this man. His very smile makes her nauseous.

"I decided to come at the last minute," Padmé says simply in reply. Her fellow senator grins, and he slowly takes in her appearance.

"Well, you look stunning, your dress is simply splendid," Terric says slowly, and his oily grin broadens slightly as his eyes rake over her.

Padmé resists the urge to cross her arms over her chest, even though she knows there is nothing to see. At the moment she feels a wave of heavy relief that she didn't wear one of her more revealing dresses.

For this particular event she chose one of her more modest gowns. The outfit is far simpler than most of what is worn by the other women here. The dark blue hue of her dress looks almost like cloths of mourning beside the brighter tones that are worn by most in attendance.

Most of Padme's clothes are darker now. She supposes that, in a way, it is a symbol of mourning. She is showing the empire that she remembers all that she's lost, all that's been taken from her.

"Thank you," Padmé manages to force out, and she bows her head slightly.

"May I have the honor of a dance?" Terric asks, and he flashes what he probably assumes is a charming grin.

Seeing no polite way out if this situation, Padmé gingerly takes his hand. She allows him to lead her out into the dance floor, and every step of the way she curses herself for listening to Bail.

The end of the night couldn't come sooner.

**~ * O * ~**

Terric leads her out onto the dance floor, and when they reach the center they each step into position. The notes of a lively waltz waft through the air, and to Padmé's dismay she finds that it is one of her favorite pieces.

Now she will probably never be able to listen to the notes again without reliving this dreadful experience.

Padmé slides into position as the song begins, and Terric steps up to stand before her.

To Padmé's utter dismay, Terric doesn't seem to agree in her belief that unacquainted partners should be held at respectable distances.

So, as Terric gracelessly drags her across the dance floor (her toes becoming quite bruised in the process), Padmé finds herself wishing more and more that she had simply stayed at home.

If it weren't for the ball's charity benefits, she most definitely would have.

The time spent with her current captor would not be nearly so torturous . . . if it weren't for his incessant tendency to speak.

"You look splendid tonight, Padmé," Terric states once more.

"Yes, I believe I heard you the first time," Padmé mutters simply in reply. She struggles to keep the tones of annoyance from creeping into her voice.

_And the second . . . and the third . . . and the fourth. . ._

Terric sends her a "charming" grin. Padmé supposes that some girls might find it just that. Girls without an ounce of brains in their heads.

"I apologize, my lady," Terric says in reply.

"It is alright," Padmé lies, "let's just talk about something else."

"Ah," Terric says quickly, "have you heard of the new amendment to the laws? The emperor is simply brilliant isn't he. . ."

Padmé quickly learns to tune out the man's ceaseless chatter. It seems that the only two topics he seems willing to address with her are how attractive he finds her, and the wonderfulness of the emperor.

And so the night drags on.

**~ * O * ~**

After several dances Padmé finally decides that enough time has passed for her to excuse herself from Terric's company.

Padmé feigns extreme exhaustion, and she quickly makes her retreat before he can chase after her.

But, as she leaves the dance floor she quickly notices that he has chosen to accompany her.

Padmé's mind spins with different excuses and ploys to get rid of the persistent man.. In a flash she turns to face him, and she plasters on her most convincing smile.

"You know what I need?" she says quickly, "a drink. From the table . . . over there."

She gives him a playful shove in the right direction, and what she hopes is an innocent laugh.

Luckily, he seems to buy her act.

"Only the best for you, my lady," Terric says quickly, "I will be back in a moment."

He them turns and disappears into the crowd. If her were to turn back, he would find an empty space in the crowd.

Padmé is already long gone.

She quickly threads her way through the crowded room. Now the press of bodies feels more than constructing to her. If she doesn't get fresh air this instant . . . she might lose it.

And she would hate to make a scene at such a _lovely _party.

Padmé walks briskly in the direction she believes leads to the outdoor patios. After a few failed tries she finally reaches her planned destination.

She rushes out onto one of the curtained balconies that lead out of the room, and she hurries out into the open space.

Padmé quickly puts as much distance between herself and the vast chamber as she can. She leans out on the intricately carved stone railing, and she takes deeps breaths of the fresh night air.

The city lights of Coruscant gleam around her, and the open space helps her to calm down just a bit. Padme sags against the railing, and she closes her eyes as she takes in another deep breath.

Just as she is starting to relax, she realizes that she is not alone on her balcony.

"The party too much for you?"

Padmé quickly spins around, and she is faced with a young man leaning against the railing. He stares out at the city beyond them, and his eyes trail the scene with a preciseness that leads Padmé to believe he is searching for something.

"I. . .I'm sorry," Padmé says quickly, "I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll go."

Just as she is about to turn and leave, the man turns to face her.

"It's fine," he says casually, "you can stay."

Padmé feels a flash of recognition as she sees the man's face, and with the dark shadows surrounding them it takes her a long moment to finally place the face with a name.

"Oh! Lord Vader. . .I'm terribly sorry!" She stutters, and a blush flushes her cheeks.

"It's fine," he says simply, and he turns away from her to stare back out at the city once more.

Padmé is startled by the pure casualness of the moment, and she finds herself unsure what exactly she is supposed to do.

_Does he want me to leave? If not. . .should I leave anyway?_

These questions spin through her mind quickly, and Padmé finds herself quite at a mental crossroad of absolute uncertainty. She is so caught up in her own thoughts, that she doesn't notice that Vader has turned his attention back to her once more.

"You never answered my question."

Padmé starts slightly when Vader speaks again, and it takes her a moment to comprehend his words.

"What question?" she asks lightly, not understanding his meaning.

"Why you left the party," Vader says simply.

Padmé frowns slightly at this, and before she can catch herself she finds the words slipping from her mouth.

"I could ask you the same thing as well," she snaps back. The annoyance that has been building ever since she stepped through the door flows into her tone.

Immediately her eyes widen, and his do as well.

Padmé waits for him to snap back at her, for him to punish her for speaking to him in such away. She has heard tales of men being killed for far less.

Instead, he takes her completely by surprise.

He laughs.

"Touché," he says with a smile, "the answer to that is . . . I don't like socializing."

Padmé, despite her surprise at both his actions and words, finds herself replying.

"Same," she says simply, "social gatherings are usually absolutely terrible . . . especially if the company is poor."

Vader tilts his head slightly, and a look of curiosity appears in his eyes.

"Are you speaking on anyone in particular?" he asks causally, as if this is a simple, everyday conversation.

"There are a few who are worse than others," Padmé says with a sigh, "Senator Terric being among those."

"Ah," Vader says, and he nods in understanding, "that is completely understandable."

Padmé finds herself grinning at his words, and she leans back against the balcony. She is surprised by how quickly she is becoming comfortable in the company of the second most powerful man in the galaxy. A man who could kill her without lifting a finger.

"Of course he isn't the only unpleasant company here," Padmé says softly, "there are others of unsavory character."

Vader nods, and Padme feels a rush of joy that she has found someone who shares in her distaste.

For a moment they sit, staring out per the city. The only noise is the muted notes of music and the strains of small talk floating from the party.

For these small moments, Padmé is able to forget that Vader is associated with the man who destroyed her family, who brought war and destruction to her planet.

If only for a moment, thoses horrible memories become distant. She feels the slight traces of peace, a feeling she has not felt in so long.

For the first time in a long while. . .Padmé feels almost relaxed.

In a moment of bravery, she forgets who she is with.

"If you could run away from it all, would you?" she asks softly.

She can feel Vader's eyes on her as he searches for some deeper meaning in her words, and she is careful to keep her gaze steady on the scene before her.

"It would depend," he says finally, and Padmé frowns at the vague answer.

"Depend? On what?" She asks, and she turns to face him.

Vader shrugs slightly, and he is now the one to keep his gaze level with the distant horizon.

"On if I had something to run to," he says simply.

Padmé is startled by the truth in his reply, and she moves to question him further.

But she is interrupted by a voice behind her.

"Oh, there you are Padmé. I've been searching for you everywhere!"

Immediately, the moment of peace shatters. Padme is the senator of a ravaged world, and Vader is the emporer's second in command. One of the most feared men in the galaxy.

Padmé feels a flash of annoyance, and immediately her posture stiffens. Vader's action's mimicking her's, expect his posture is rigid with a slight twinge of anger.

Before Padmé can speak, Vader turns to face Terric. A smile that could grace a nexu slides onto his face as he speaks.

"Senator, I hope you don't mind that I stole her company for a few minutes," Vader says, and though his tone is completely sociable Padmé can sense the underlying hint of malice in his words.

"L-Lord Vader," Terric stutters slightly before he seems to gain composure once more.

For all his love of the empire and it's ruler, it appears that Terric is just as afraid of the emperor's second in command as everyone else in the galaxy.

Terric moves to speak once more, probably some babbling praise about the emperor, but Vader quickly cuts in.

He turns to Padmé, and he gives her a slight bow.

"It was a pleasure to have your company," Vader says softly, and for a moment she sees a trace of the earlier smile.

"The pleasure was mine," Pamdé says, and she gives him a broad smile.

Vader bows to her once more, before he swiftly exits the balcony. As he leaves he makes no move to acknowledge Terric's presence.

Padmé watches as he disappears into the swirl of people inside the ball room, and she feels a slight tremor of loss at the peace that goes with him.

Padmé sighs as she turns back to face Terric, who is currently deep in conversation. She nods and smiles at the appropriate times, all the while counting down the minutes until she can leave this wretched ball.

**~ * O * ~**

Vader fights to hide his smile of satisfaction as he exits the balcony. He counts their initial meeting as a success, and he knows his master will agree with him.

Now his mission for the night his done. He can finally leave this horrible party, and go back to the far more interesting task of trailing leads on possible rebel spies.

Vader is quite satisfied with the work he did today. He can't expect to get any details on the rebel's anytime soon. For the meantime he must simply focus on gaining her trust.

Tomorrow, he will try and talk to her again.

He actually finds himself slightly looking forward to the time. Talking with the woman wasn't nearly as terrible as speaking with the other senators. In fact, the time could almost be considered enjoyable.

Perhaps in another time, in another place, Vader would consider pursuing her in a different light.

For now though, she is simply a means of getting the information he needs. Information his master requires.

Vader learned long ago that disappointing his master only results in terrible consequences. The old sith is not a firm believer in "second chances."

But, Vader has faith that this plan will work. All he has to do is be patient.

The only trouble is, patience has never been his strongest suit.

**~ * O * ~**

**Okay, so please review!**

**What with school starting now, I will try to get the next chapter up in about 5 days. This is because I can only update one of my stories a day.**

**So, hopefully next update will be in 5 days!**


	3. Chapter 3

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé slides into her usual seat at the partial filled table, and she immediately concentrates a strong glare on the Alderaan senator seated beside her.

It doesn't take long for her companion to notice her less than pleasant expression.

"Is something wrong, Padmé?" Bail asks, and a tinge of concern touches his voice. Padmé wastes no time in a reply.

"Where were you last night? After you practically forced me to go to that dreadful ball?" Padmé mutters, annoyance leeching into her tone.

Bail winces as he realizes what exactly she is referring to.

"I'm sorry, we searched relentlessly for you," Bail hurriedly excuses, "did you. . .have a good time?"

Padmé sends him an even sharper glare before replying.

"I spent half the night _dancing_ with Senator Terric, Padmé hisses, "the mindless idiot babbled nothing but senseless empire propaganda and empty compliments all night."

Bail nods sympathetically, and he appears to at least feel some guilt at Padmé having to spend the night with Terric.

"Empire propaganda?" Bail asks, trying to change the subject. Padmé doesn't miss the touch of interest in his tone.

"Yes, he could talk of little else than or 'Glorious Ruler,'" Padmé mutters, careful to keep her voice low.

Bail seems to take some mild interest in this comment, and he pauses before continuing.

"I was unaware that you felt anything other than indifference to our 'Glorious Ruler,'" Bail says softly, "is it possible your opinion has been swayed."

Padmé sighs, not exactly prepared to have her political views questioned this early in the morning. The annoyance of last night still presses thick on her mind.

"There are some things. . .a lot of things that I don't agree with," Padmé says finally. Bail nods, seemingly quite satisfied with her answer.

"You know," Bail suggests casually, "Mothma is having a little get together in a few days. Just is and a few other senators. If it is at all possible you could make it-."

Padmé cuts him off before he can continue.

"I believe I've had enough socializing for the week," Padmé says evenly, "maybe next time."

Bail nods slightly, and be turns away from the topic. Padmé knows he won't let it alone though, he will simply save it for later use.

Luckily, for he moment at least, Bail seems content with changing the subject.

"Was it truly so terrible of a night?" Bail asks, hoping to find some light in the situation.

Padmé opens her mouth to give a sure and ready yes, but a moment later she finds herself reconsidering her decision.

If she remembers correctly, the night wasn't a _total_ loss.

"No, it wasn't all bad," Padmé murmurs, and her thoughtful frown immediately catches Bail's attention.

"Oh, did you. . .meet someone?" Bail asks suggestively, and Padmé roughly shakes her head.

"Not anyone I didn't already know," Padmé says quickly in reply, "it's just. . .perhaps this person isn't exactly who I thought they were."

_Though that is highly unlikely_, Padmé thinks to herself, _one conversation certainly doesn't make them friends._

Bail seems to get excited at this, and his eagerness to continue the conversation makes Padmé's stomach churn with nervousness.

If Bail knew who exactly she spoke of. . .he would not be nearly so happy. He has made his views of Darth Vader, and the entire empire, quite clear.

If Padmé didn't know better, she would think her dear friend a revolutionist!

But, of course, she knows Bail o be one of the last ones to join the rising "Rebel Alliance." Her friend has never been a fan of violence, and Padmé wholly agrees with his views of peace.

"Who is it? Someone I know?" Bail asks, his tone eager for an answer.

Padmé already knows he won't let her go without an answer, and she doesn't want to chance the possibility of him reading through a lie.

Padmé's mind scrambles for any excuse that would seem plausible, but luckily a moment later she is saved from answering.

Silence falls on the room as a familiar dark presence enters the room. The time for small talk is over, now that the meeting's imposing leader has arrived.

Padmé simply gives Bail a small smile before she turns her gaze away. She doesn't miss his look of disappointment at not discovering her mystery companion's name.

As a familiar figure takes his seat at the head of the table, Padmé finds her gaze drawn in that direction. She discreetly watches the man whom she had spine of only moments earlier.

Immediately she notices one obvious observation.

Padmé sees little trace of the man who had spoken to her last night. In place of that carefree soul is the mask of familiar indifference and intimidation.

Padmé searches for any sign of the man who she had met last night, and when saddened upon finding not a trace, she slowly begins to turn away.

It is then that he turns his gaze up to meet hers. She nearly starts in surprise when he states back at her.

A moment later, he smiles.

It is only the faintest turn at the corner of his mouth, but instantly he transforms from the rigid dark lord. . .to the man Padmé met last night.

Padmé finds that she prefers this man much more over the emperor's intimidating second in command.

The smile is gone just as quickly as it came to be, and Padmé wastes no time returning it with one of her own.

Only a few seconds pass after this small meeting, and then Padmé is pulled into the wonderfully exciting world of tax laws.

**~ * O * ~**

_(Three Hours Later)_

The moment the meeting lets out, Padmé quietly and quickly slips from the room.

Bail lingers to speak to some of their fellow senators, but Padmé finds that she has had enough politics and small talk for the morning.

At the moment her growling stomach calls to her, reminding her that breakfast was many hours earlier.

And, after bourse sitting still and listening to other talk. . .Padmé is famished.

Padmé walks briskly down the hallway, her destination clear in her mind.

Her office, a place where no one will bother her. . .where she will have silence and peace in her lunch break. . .

Only moments later is her peace of mind is broken when an unwelcome and familiar voice calls her name.

"Senator Amidala!"

Padmé inwardly groans, and against her own will she slows her pace. She struggles to wipe the grimace off of her face as she turns to face the person who had called after her.

"Senator Terric," Padmé mutters through clenched teeth, "what a pleasure to see you here."

If Terric senses any of her less than genuine emotions, he makes no outward sign if showing it.

"The pleasure is all mine," Terric says with a smile. His own pleasure seems not faked in the slightest, and his emotions all quite genuine.

Padmé bows her head slightly, hoping that will save her the task of responding. Luckily, for some reason Terric finds her lack of words encouraging, and he forges straight on ahead.

"Since it's the time for all sessions to break for lunch, I was wondering if perhaps you would like to get a bite to eat with me?" Terric asks, his expression seemingly enthusiastic at the prospect.

Padmé inwardly grimaces at the thought of spending her one peaceful hour with this. . .man.

She struggles to find some sort of excuse that will save her from going to eat with him, but she finds that she has no plausible one.

So, with a sigh, Padmé condemns herself to her own horrid fate.

"I suppose-," she begins almost morbidly, but a new voice cuts her off before she can finish.

"Ah, Senator Amidala. Just who I was looking for."

Padmé instantly recognizes the voice, and she relaxes slightly as the speaker steps forward. On the other hand, Terric freezes, his emotions now a mixture of surprise and fear.

"L-Lord Vader," Terric mumbles, before he clears his throat, "what are you doing here?"

Vader stares at the man for a long moment, and it is obvious that he is questioning the man's intelligence, or apparent lack thereof.

"That is none of your concern, Senator," Vader says cooly, and Terric hastily shakes his head in agreement, "my business is with the Senator Amidala."

Terric's surprise raises a notch at this, and he sends a confused glance towards Padmé.

"What. . .what business do you have with her, my lord?" Terric asks his brows furrowed in confusion.

Once more, Vader stares at the man as if truly realizing the depths of the man's idiocy.

Terric, on the other hand, doesn't seem to comprehend his own growing danger.

"Again, that is none of your concern," Vader says simply, "but if you must know, I need her final input on the debate of the tax situation."

Terric doesn't seem to notice the slight hint of danger in Vader's tone, because he presses on without pause.

"I'm sorry, but Senator Amidala already has a prior agreement," Terric says with a shrug, "she has agreed to attend lunch with me. I'm sure your meeting can wait until then."

Vader frowns at this, and he seems mildly surprised at the man's idiocy. Quickly though, the surprise is fading into an emotion that promises nothing good for Terric.

Sensing the coming danger, and also her own escape, Padmé hurriedly steps in.

"I'm so sorry, Terric, but this meeting is quite important," Padmé lies smoothly, "perhaps we can. . .meet up again sometime?"

_Though hopefully not_. . .Padmé thinks to herself.

Terric seems to hesitate for only a moment, in which time disappointment flickers over his face. Quickly though, he recovers.

"Of course. I will look forward to the next time we can meet," Terric says evenly. He seems quite pleased with the prospect of meeting with her again.

Vader wastes no time in ushering her away. After lightly exchanged pleasantries they part ways with Terric, and Padmé and Vader hastily walk the opposite direction.

The moment they slip around a corner into a lighter populated hallway, Padmé releases a breath she didn't know she was holding in.

The pair walks until they have reached the more secluded and less used hallways, where thy can talk in private. The instant they stop Padmé turns to face the man who had saved her from a horrorful hour of certain dread.

"Thank you so much," she mutters softly to Vader, her tone quite sincere.

"You are welcome," Vader says simply in reply, and Padmé can hear the touch of amusement in his voice.

"How did you know I didn't want to go to lunch with him?" Padmé asks, and a frown appears ok her face as the question comes to her.

Vader shrugs slightly, as if the answer is obvious.

"Your anxiousness was quite obvious," Vader says, and he rolls his eyes, "Terric is an idiot if he didn't see it."

Padmé smiles once more, a genuine thing.

"Well, I am forever indebted," Padmé says with a smile, "is there any way I can ever repay you?"

Her tone is half-joking, but her proposition quite sincere. she really does owe him from saving her from lunch with Terric.

Vader smiles, but then he seems to hesitate slightly, almost as though he is contemplating something. After a moment's silence, he speaks.

"I would be honored if you would join me for lunch," Vader says evenly, "unless you would rather dine with Terric?"

Padmé is surprised by his offer, but she quickly recovers with a smile.

She already knows that her only other true option is lunch, alone in her office.

Perhaps this will be another opportunity for her to learn more about the man she met at the ball last night, the man hiding behind Darth Vader's mask of intimidation.

With a sudden rush of determination, Padmé finds herself wanting to learn more about this hidden man.

"It would be my pleasure," Padmé replies.

**~ * O * ~**

**Okay, so please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy!**

**~ * O * ~**

It is only after Padmé and her companion have arrived at the restaurant, and have taken their seats, that the young senator begins to feel nervous.

_What am I doing_? Padmé thinks to herself, _I don't know anything about this man. . ._

Except the finer details of his quite well-known reputation. This of course does nothing to reassure Padmé's nerves.

Vader seems to pick up on her nerves as they wait for the server to arrive, and he frowns slightly.

"Is everything alright, senator?" Vader asks.

Padmé starts slightly when he speaks, and she hurries to give him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine," Padmé says quickly, "just a bit tired. Those senate meetings take something out of me."

Vader nods in agreement at this, and he doesn't question her further on the subject. Padmé is saved from speaking when the server arrives.

The man appears quite nervous, and he is obviously trying his best not to let his fears slow.

"L-Lord Vader," the man says, "how may I serve you today?"

Vader observes the man cooly for a moment before he turns to face Padmé.

"You can order first," he says smoothly.

Padmé nods, and she takes one more moment to glance over the menu before she orders. Her eyes slowly skim the high-labeled prices and fancy titles.

A moment later she orders a simple stew, one she recognizes as one that was once quite popular on her home world.

The server shakily writes down her order, and Padmé doesn't miss the odd look he gives her.

_He probably thinks we're on a date_, Padmé muses. It only takes a flash for her thoughts to flip once more.

_We aren't. . .are we?_

When the waiter has scribbled down her order, he turns to Vader. To Padmé's surprise, he orders the exact same as her.

When the waiter has left he turns to her.

"It sounded good," he says simply, "do you like it?"

After a slight pause, Padmé nods.

"Good," Vader says simply, "I will take your word for it."

Silence falls for several moments before Padmé finally decides to speak.

"Thank you again for saving me back there," Padmé murmurs, "if I had had to eat lunch with him. . .I don't know if I could have made it."

Vader bows his head at this, and a small smile slips over his face.

"You are welcome," Vader says in reply, "if you are ever plagued by his presence in the future, I will do my best to drag you away."

Padmé laughs at this, and she finds herself easily slipping into comfortable conversation. Slowly her nerves begin to fade away, and her anxiousness is replaced with the same peace that overtook her at the ball the previous night.

"I think we can use the whole 'business meeting' excuse at least a few more times," Padmé says smoothly, "even then he will probably never discover my true intentions of avoiding him."

"Yes, he isn't exactly the most intelligent, is he?" Vader asks dryly, and Padmé laughs again.

The pair falls into easy conversation after this. Their chatter continues well after their meal has arrived and been consumed.

Sometime after their meal has finished, Padmé's eyes happen to catch on the wall chronometer.

"Oh my," Padmé says with a start. She is up in a flash, and she nearly tips the table over in her hurry.

Vader stands up as well, a worried expression crossing his face.

"What is wrong?" he asks, his tone betraying confusion. Padmé hesitates in her brisk walk towards the door, and she turns back to face him.

"I have a meeting!" she exclaims, "I completely forgot about it. . ."

Padmé then turns without waiting for Vader's reply. She hurries towards the exit, and in moments she is out on the street.

The senate building is only a few blocks from the restaurant, but to Padmé it might as well be an endless space. She is already dreadfully late, and she knows there is no way she will make it to the meeting on time.

Never the less, she continues her brisk walk forward. Her heavy senatorial gown prevents her from breaking out into a run, but she does the best she can.

It is only after she is halfway down the block that she realizes Vader has accompanied her in her hurried walk.

"What's the hurry, Senator?" Vader asks simply, "surely this meeting isn't so important? I thought all the large scale discussions and votes were over for the day."

Padmé sighs slightly, and she hesitates before speaking.

"It isn't a mandatory meeting," Padmé says after a long moment, "it's just a discussion between some of the senators about the latest laws and such."

Only a moment later does Padmé find her path blocked.

Padmé tries to step around Vader, but he only steps to block her path once more. Padmé glares up at him, but he appears not to notice her less than pleasant expression.

"You mean you actually go to those discussions?" Vader asks, his voice betraying a slight trace of surprise.

Padmé's scowl morphs into a frown, and she indignantly crosses her arms over her chest.

"They are interesting," Padmé says defensively.

Vader gives her a look of disbelief, and after a moment Padmé sighs slightly.

"Look, I just like them, okay?" Padmé says. There is no way she is going to give him her real reason.

The fact that, if she didn't go to these meetings, she would find herself sitting alone at her office.

And she has had enough loneliness and tears for a lifetime.

Vader frowns at her, not at all believing her words. Luckily, he doesn't press for a further explanation, and he instead changes direction.

"Well, you're too late anyway," he says with a shrug, "you'll never make it on time."

Padmé frowns, and a worried expression crosses her face. After a long moment, she sighs in admittance of her defeat.

"Alright," Padmé says slowly, I guess I can. . .go get started on my paper work. I'm a little behind at the moment."

Lie. She hasn't been behind in her work since. . .before the incident.

But, of course, she can't think about that.

Vader stares at her for a long moment, before he slowly nods.

"Can I at least escort you back?" Vader asks, "I am heading back to the senate building as well."

Padmé nods quickly, relieved that she will be saved from at least a few more minutes of solitude.

The pair turns, and they begin their walk down the crowded streets of Coruscant. Silence falls, but Padmé excepts the quiet readily. She has spent a fair share of her time in silence, so the quiet doesn't bother her.

The presence of another figure, walking beside her, comforts her somewhat. To not be alone in the wild masses of Coruscant's streets is a thrilling concept for Padmé, one she finds quite enjoyable.

And so, they walk back to the senate in silence.

**~ * O * ~**

The feeling of comfortable silence remains until Padmé and her companion have arrived in front of her office door.

As Padmé stands before the door, she finds herself hesitating slightly. A long moment passes before Vader speaks.

"It was a pleasure to enjoy your company today, senator," Vader says with a smile. Padmé finds herself readily returning a smile.

"The pleasure was mine," Padmé replies, "perhaps the next time we meet will be under more. . .welcoming circumstances."

"I hope to see you soon, senator," Vader says simply, and he bows slightly.

Then, he is turning away.

The pain hits her suddenly, like a blow to the chest. In a moment, the imminent feeling of aloneness that will soon fall on her strikes her, and she is left breathless.

"Wait," she calls softly.

Vader turns slightly, and a look of concern appears on his face. It is obvious that he can sense her sudden anxiety, her fear.

Just as he is about to speak, his comm-link goes off with a buzz.

Vader makes no move to answer it, and he instead continues to stare at Padmé with an unreadable gaze.

The comm-link, however continues to go off. After a long moment of listening to it buzz, Padmé clears her throat.

"You might want to get that," she murmurs.

Vader nods slightly, and a moment later he taps the comm. Soon an urgent voice fills the air.

_"__Lord Vader, the emperor requests your presence immediately."_

Immediately, Vader's demeanor changes. His stance becomes almost defensive, and it is almost as if he is on edge.

After a glance back at Padmé, he replies.

"Tell the emperor I will be there shortly," Vader says simply, his voice devoid of any emotion.

_"__Yes sir."_

Vader flicks his comm off, and he sighs slightly before turning back to face Padmé.

"I am terribly sorry," he says, and after a slight pause he continues, "what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Padmé only hesitates for a moment before she replies.

"Oh, nothing," she says quickly, "I guess I'll. . .see you around."

Vader stares at her for another long moment, before he slowly nods his head.

"See you around, senator," he says.

And then, he turns and walks away. Only a few moments later he has disappeared around the corner. Padmé is left standing alone in the corridor.

She hesitates for only a moment before she enters her office, in which she takes the time to compose herself. She then enters the antechamber that sits beyond her private office.

"Senator Amidala, how are you? You're back early," her secretary says quickly as Padmé enters. Cinda Wilms is young, blonde, and perky. A sweet girl, but all in all far too outgoing and flamboyant for Padmé to deal with for more than short periods of time.

"I decided to take a break today," Padmé says evenly as she inches her way towards her private office. She silently hopes that the stream of questions will end here, and she will be allowed to retreat into her room of solitude.

_Something truly is wrong with me_, Padmé thinks to herself,_ I prefer solitude and the company of Darth Vader to my perfectly normal secretary._

_What would Sabé say?_

Padmé immediately has to suppress the wave of hurt that accompanies the memory of her dearest childhood friend.

She is drawn back to the present when Cinda continues on with her side of the conversation. The young woman is completely oblivious to Padmé's momentary lapse in attention.

". . .and this young man was quite persistent! He wanted me to tell him when you would be free, miss, said he wished to surprise you. Senator, I didn't know you were seeing anyone!"

Padmé cuts the woman off before she can continue, and a flash of alarm hums through her at Cinda's words.

"What? Who was this?" Padmé asks, her alarm only growing with every passing second. Cinda must hear the worried note in Padmé's tone, because she wastes no time in replying.

"Why, Senator Terric. He stopped by during lunch break, while you were out," Cinda replies, and confusion sets into her features, "you are seeing him aren't you? That is what he said."

Padmé ignores this question, and she hurries to pull her secretaries attention away from this minor detail.

"What did you tell him, Cinda?" Padmé asks, and she struggles to reign in her worry.

"Oh, I didn't tell him anything, miss," Cinda replies quickly, "I knew it wasn't my place to give out such details, and I told him he could ask you himself. He didn't really like that. . ."

Padmé hurries to cut the woman off before she can lapse into another string of conversation.

"Thank you, Cinda," Padmé replies, "you did quite well. Just for future reference: don't give out any of my personal information unless I directly tell you so."

Cinda nods eagerly at this, and only after Padmé is reassured that the woman has heard her does she turn back to her office.

Just as she is slipping through the doorway, Cinda calls out to her once more.

"Miss, are you seeing him? He is quite a handsome man. . ."

Padmé acts as if she doesn't hear her, and a moment later the door slides shut behind her.

The young woman rests her head back against the frame, and she slowly closes her eyes. Already her few hours spent with Vader are a distant memory.

A happy one yes, but the joy is dulled by the very thought of Jon Terric. The man is far more interested in pursuing her than she previously thought.

_Maybe I can just ask Vader to scare him away,_ Padmé muses to herself, and she finds the idea quite pleasing.

With a sigh, Padmé shoves herself away from the door. Only a few steps bring her to the far wall, and the long glass panel that circles the room.

Strangely though, as Padmé stares out over the skyline, she finds the pain not quite so crippling as before.

It is still there, of course, but subdued somewhat.

It is, almost, bearable.

**~ * O * ~**

**Okay, so you've probably noticed some alluding to Padmé's past. Don't worry, details of that will come later. For now I'm just giving a few hints, so just know this: it was a traumatizing event. At the moment she is still in a period of morning. She is stuck in one of the stages of grief.**

**Please Review! Next chapter will be up in a few days!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Enjoy!**

**~ * o * ~**

"You seem oddly chipper today."

Padmé is startled from her thoughts at her old friends voice, and she sheepishly looks up at him.

She fractures her attention between her current task of avoiding the masses roaming the halls of the senate building, and coming up with a plausible excuse.

"I have no idea as to what you are referring to," Padmé says finally, her voice taking a slight stiff tone.

Bail's steps falter slightly, and he hurries to right any damage his words might have caused.

"No, no it's not a bad thing!" Bail says quickly, "it's just. . .you haven't been this happy since. . ."

Padmé's mood immediately darkens, and a stab of pain lances through her heart. Her brisk pace slows slightly, and Bail's pace decreases to match her's.

"Since Naboo," she whispers softly, and Bail nods.

"I just was curious as to what caused this sudden lift in mood," Bail says cautiously, "and. . .if it is a person, I would personally like to thank them."

At his words, a slight smile crosses Padmé's face, and she hastily tries to conceal it.

_I'm sure the two of you would become the best of friends._ . .Padmé thinks to herself.

"It is nothing," Padmé says evenly, hoping that her friend will finally drop the subject, "perhaps it is just the nice weather we have been having that has lifted my mood."

Bail frowns at her slightly sarcastic tone. Padmé knows he can sense the attempt at a diversion, but luckily he doesn't press the subject further.

"I was wondering. . ." he says slowly, and he seems to consider his words carefully, "if you had perhaps reconsidered my invitation. Mothma really would love you to attend her party."

Padmé frowns at this. She finds it remotely odd that Bail would attempt to invite her to the event again.

_Usually, after I say no once, he doesn't bring the matter up again,_ Padmé thinks slowly.

"I don't like parties," Padmé says stiffly, and Bail nods.

"Yes, I know this," he says evenly, "and this isn't a party. . .it's more of a social gathering."

Padmé grimaces at the words, and she gives her friend a look of disbelief.

"Sounds absolutely dreadful," she mutters, and Bail laughs.

His amusement at her words lasts only a few moments, before his expression is replaced with one of seriousness.

"In truth, it isn't really a party at all," Bail says, and his voice drops suddenly to a softer tone. Padmé doesn't miss the cautious glance that he sends towards his surroundings.

"What do you mean?" Padmé asks, and a slight frown appears on her face. Bail sighs slightly before answering, and there is a slight hesitation to his words.

Almost as if he is carefully choosing what to say.

"A few of us get together every now and then, and we just talk," Bail murmurs, and his tone sounds innocent enough.

"About what?" Padmé asks, and her frown only grows. Bail seems to realize her less than pleased expression, because his hands raise in a slightly defensive gesture.

"We just talk," Bail says with a shrug, "about politics. . .beliefs. . ."

Padmé's eyes narrow slightly, and this time it is her eyes that cautiously scan their surroundings.

"Those can be dangerous subjects, " Padmé murmurs.

She understands Bail's implied meanings. His extreme caution.

In the Empire, it isn't illegal to discuss the workings of the government, and the current situations and happenings in the realm of politics. . .as long as your views don't go against the beliefs of the Empire.

Vaguely, Padmé remembers a time when life wasn't like this. When one wasn't afraid who was listening to your every word. . .when one wasn't terrified what punishments disobedience might bring.

"Padmé?" Bail's voice holds a slight twinge of concern, and it takes her a moment to bring her mind back to the present.

She gently clears her throat, and she shakes her head to clear it.

"Maybe. . .maybe next time, Bail," Padmé says softly, and she bows her head. Bail nods at her words, but Padmé can read the disappointment on his face.

**~ * o * ~**

Vader stares at the man before him. The rage he feels in side is threatening to overtake him, and he struggles to control these feelings of hatred.

"Where is the base?" Vader hisses, his voice low and mechanical.

The man, who at this point is far past delusional, laughs at the Sith's question.

Blood runs down his face, and the dark liquid streaks the tender bruises that mark his skin. The man's eyes are glazed with pain, and when he speaks his voice betrays hysteria.

"Why would I tell you that?" the rebel asks, and a smile appears on his face.

Whatever ounce of patience Vader still maintained snaps at the man's reply. In a flash, the prisoner is pinned against the wall.

The man weakly claws at his throat, and he vainly attempts to peel away the invisible fingers trapping him agains the wall.

Vader slowly approaches his prey, and when he speaks his voice holds no trace of mercy, of warmth.

"I'll ask once more," Vader says slowly, making his words clear so that the man understands him.

_"__Where is the base?"_

The man, whose face is now flooded with red, chokes for breath. Even though he is moments from death, he still manages to find the will to smile.

"That. . .will. . .die. . .with me," the man gasps, his words barely distinguishable amidst his garbled coughs.

A moment later, a snap echoes through the room.

Vader slowly unclenches his fist, and the man's body falls limp to the floor. The Sith Lord strides from the room, and a moment later a unit of soldiers rushes in to clean up the mess.

Vader's eyes burn with gold as his fury races through him.

_Where are they_? his mind hisses. His fury and impatience swirl around him.

A soldier steps towards him, and the man gently stammers something about the emperor requesting his presence.

With a wave of his hand, the man's trembling words cut off sharply. The poor soldier's body hits the wall with a sharp thud.

Vader swiftly makes his way to the throne room, where he already knows the emperor is waiting.

He already dreads the conversation that is to come.

**~ * o * ~**

Padmé walks briskly down the hall, her mind still clouded from the overload of information she received during her last meeting.

_If I hear one more word about safety in traffic laws_. . .Padmé's mind thinks wearily.

All she has to do is pick up a few files from her office. . .and then she is home free. Already the soft warmth of her bed calls to her.

Padmé finally reaches the section in which her office is located. Her steps are quick and sure, and her destination is clear in her mind.

_Almost there. . .almost there. . ._

The moment Padmé steps foot into her secretary's office, all thoughts of a peaceful evening shatter.

Padmé freezes in the entryway, and immediately a million escape plans race through her mind.

But, of course, he has already spotted her.

"Ah, Senator Amidala," Terric says, and he gives her a grin that makes her stomach turn.

"Senator Terric," Padmé says, struggling to keep her voice civil, "what. . .a surprise."

More like nightmare. Absolute horror.

**~ * o * ~**

Vader kneels on the floor of the throne room. He is careful to keep his head respectively bowed, to keep his eyes downcast.

The only sound is that of his master's pacing steps. The noise echoes through the room in a ceaseless patter.

"Your interrogation was a failure," his master hisses, his voice sounding strange after the eternity Vader has been kneeling in silence.

"Yes, master," Vader says simply in reply. He makes no move to defend himself, to excuse his results.

"Your failure is most displeasing," Sidious snarls, and Vader struggles not to wince at his master's words.

Vader remains silent, awaiting whatever is to come.

His master does not speak for several long minutes, and in this time the only sound is that of his pacing footsteps.

"How goes the mission with Amidala?" his master says finally. The older Sith's tone is neutral, and all traces of earlier displeasure have disappeared.

"Well," Vader says simply in reply.

He can sense his master's smile at his words.

"Good," Sidious hisses, "I hope this mission progresses well."

Vader doesn't miss his master's implied meaning, the unspoken message in the man's words.

_I will not accept further failure in this matter._

**~ * o * ~**

Padmé shifts uneasily in her seat, and she struggles to keep her eyes averted from the man seated across from her. This action is remotely odd, as her company seems quite intent on giving her his full attention.

_How do I end up in these messes?_ Padmé thinks to herself.

"Is something wrong?" Terric asks, and a look of forced concern works its way across his face.

Padmé struggles to smile as she replies.

"Nothing," she says quickly, "I'm just. . .tired."

Terric nods sympathetically, and he proceeds to launch into an explanation of some story or other.

Padmé tunes out his voice after the first few words, and she instead tries to focus on this current horror.

_How did a simple conversation turn into this. . .forced date_? Padmé thinks, and a frown slips across her face at this thought.

The details of the exact conversation leading up to her acceptance are a bit blurry, but Padmé is quite sure she only agreed after Terric pressed the matter for the fifth time.

_Why can't I just say no?_

Padmé sighs, and she gently rubs a hand across her forehead.

_Maybe something is wrong with me._ . .she thinks to herself.

_I did prefer my date with Darth Vader to this, _Padmé thinks idly, and a small smile of amusement crosses her face.

This amusement quickly fades when the feeling of surprise sets in.

Any thought of even trying to pay attention Terric's dull story fades as her mind chases this new train of thought.

Without question, she would much rather prefer Vader to her current company.

She frowns at this, at this new thought.

_I wouldn't just prefer his company now. _. .her mind thinks slowly.

"Padmé, what would you like to eat?"

Her thoughts are shattered as Terric's question brings her back to the present.

Her eyes fly upward to see the waiter standing before them, and a slight blush crosses her cheeks as she scurries to scan her menu's tiny print.

Still, the thought lingers in the back of her mind.

_Her preferred company._

**~ * o * ~**

**Okay, so Vader hasn't exactly changed. . .yet. . .**

**But Padmé's kinda starting to like him. Maybe there is hope for them yet.**

**Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so sorry for the super late update! Hopefully this chapter will make up for that.**

**Personally, I really like this chapter. . .so enjoy!**

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé cautiously moves away from the meeting room. Her steps are careful, and her eyes scan her surroundings with careful scrutiny.

Even though she doesn't see any traces of Terric, she makes sure to keep her guard up. He has proven himself to be quite resourceful, and nearly relentless in his chase.

Apparently he took their single and completely one-sided date as some sort of sign that Padmé showed any form of remote interest in him. In the two days following the traumatic lunch, Padmé has been sought out by the senator more times than she can remember.

If anything, the man must be applauded for his study. It seems as though in only a matter of hours he managed to memorize her entire schedule. He now finds great joy in using this wealth of information to give Padmé "surprise visits."

This, of course, is the reason for Padmé's extreme caution.

She carefully edges her way backwards. She discreetly turns her head to assure herself that he isn't trying to sneak up on her from behind.

After several minutes of this slow but cautious space, Padmé finally manages to slip out of the main corridor into one of the more secluded alcoves. This longer route will cost her more time on her trek back to her office, but in the end it is worth it if it means she isn't faced with Terric.

Padmé carefully slides back into the shadows, and she relaxes slightly as a feeling of relaxation settles over her.

Of course, this moment of peace shatters when someone behind her clears their throat.

Wildly, Padmé spins around. Her hands come up in an almost defensive pose, and an instinctual grimace slips across her face at the thought of facing Terric again.

But, who she faces upon turning around is not at all who's he first suspected.

"Oh, it's just you," Padmé says with a sigh of mixed relief and relaxation. Her hands drop down to her sides, and she leans back against the wall as some of the tension leaves her.

In response a flicker of amusement crosses Vader's face, and the surprise at her initial reaction quickly fades.

"I take it you were expecting someone else?" Vader asks, a frown tugging at his lips. In response Padmé can't help but off up a dry laugh.

"Yeah. . .you could say that," she laughs humorlessly. Idly she tucks a stray curl behind her ear.

Vader does not seem quite satisfied with her vague reply, and his frown only grows.

"Elaborate," he says.

Padmé doesn't miss the barely veiled hint of danger in his tone. She quickly tries to move the topic to a safer subject.

"It's nothing," Padmé says quickly, and she forces a smile, "I. . .I just wanted to avoid talking any of the senators about the new tax law. There have been some slight disagreements over the matter, and I don't really feel like getting into any arguments at the moment."

Vader stares at her for a long moment, and Padmé knows that he in no way buys her lie. Luckily he doesn't press further on the matter, but Padmé can tell that he hasn't forgotten the subject.

"Well then, I am sorry for interrupting you," Vader says slowly, his tone infinitely more reserved than when their conversation first began.

He has only taken a single step away when Padmé rushes to stop him. The words flow from her mouth before she can stop him.

"No. You don't have to go," she says. The words come out in a rush, and for a moment she puzzles over them, trying to remember just exactly what she said.

Vader pauses in his walk, and he slowly turns back to face her. His expression is slightly less guard than it was a moment ago, but his movements still hold a slightly calculated feel.

"Is there something you need, senator?" Vader asks. Padmé stares at him for several long moments before she remembers that she is supposed to reply.

"Umm. . .well. . .do you have any plans right now?" Padmé asks. She tries not to wince at the slight stutter in her words.

_Why can't I get my thoughts straight?_ Her mind distractedly wonders.

Vader pauses for only a moment before he replies.

"At the moment, no," he says slowly, "why?"

Padmé clears her throat slightly before continuing. This time, when she speaks, her voice only holds a slight tremor. She finds it mildly easier to form complete thoughts.

"Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to do something," Padmé says, and she offers up an innocent shrug, "I mean, I'm free for the rest of the afternoon, and I don't really have any plans. . .so. . ."

She trails off then, hoping off he will pick up the train of conversation.

"Do you have something in mind?" he asks.

**~ * O * ~**

"I'ver heard it's a wonderful show," Padmé mutters as they slide into their seats. Vader barely hears her over the slight hum of other voices echoing across the vast chamber.

Currently they are seated in one of the private boxes situated in the theatre. These seats are the best in the house, and they would normally be reserved for the emperor should he deign to visit the theatre.

Of course, Vader's master was absolutely delighted to hear of his apprentices' ploy to gain information from the young senator. In the short reply Vader received from Sidious, his master had practically flung the open invitation at him.

So, here they are now. Padmé, completely unsuspecting of his true motives.

_Maybe I can finally discover whether or not she knows anything_, Vader wonders slowly, _I will have to move carefully. . .I can't risk giving her any sense of alarm._

"Do you know anything about this play?"

Vader is brought out of his thoughts by the very object of his pondering. He quickly turns to face her, and he is careful to school his expression so that it betrays none of his true thoughts.

"It is a tragedy, yes?" he asks, having heard only the vaguest of details about the production from the holonet.

Padmé smiles at his answer, and around them the lights slowly begin to dim. The chatter slowly begins to fade, and it is replaced by the first notes of music as the play begins.

Vader is so caught up in noticing these new changes, that he almost misses Padmé's soft reply.

"Yes. It is."

Vader turns sharply when she speaks. The amount of pain he hears in her voice. . .

But when he faces her, he sees only a blank expression. Her face wiped clean of emotion as she watches the curtains slowly fold back.

Vader mentally files this note away, and as he turns to face the stage he is careful to keep half of his attention on the woman seated beside him. He stretches his senses out through the force, hoping to catch some trace of her emotions, her thoughts.

He is met with a steel wall. Vader feels a faint tremor of surprise at the woman's mental shields. They are quite strong for one who is non-force sensitive.

Of course, Vader could easily break these barriers down. . .but to do so would not only alarm the object in question. It would most likely leave her mind in quite a broken state.

_And that is why I must do this the hard way_, Vader thinks with a sigh.

When he sees that he will gain no insight from her strongly shielded mind, he decides that he will have to wait to question her.

Vader would attempt to ask her a few questions now, but it is quite evident that her whole attention is on the stage below them. Her eyes follow the actors with a passionate intensity, and her eyes shine as she watches the story unfold.

Vader finds no such enjoyment from the tale, as he finds the entire storyline rather dull.

_Two families, long at war with one another. A blood feud with a body count stretching for many generations. The hatred between the two families is something that has only grown stronger with time. . ._

_Of course, it would be the children of the two families who would fall in love. Vader can easily see the tragedy unfolding as the two lovers unknowingly fall into their own demises._

Forbidden love.

Vader finds the entire notion rather childish, but he refrains from letting his boredom show on his face.

_Just be patient._ . .he reminds himself. _. .only a few hours left. . ._

**~ * O * ~**

The lights slowly fade back on as the play pauses for intermission. Padmé gently rubs her eyes against the sudden burst of brightness, and she stretches slightly.

"So, what do you think?" Padmé asks, before turning to face her companion.

Vader blinks a few times, and Padmé grins as he yawns.

"Very. . .interesting," he says finally, a slight frown crossing his face as he leans back in his chair.

"You fell asleep didn't you?" Padmé asks, as smirk slipping across her face as she waits for a reply. Vader sighs, and he tiredly rubs a hand across his face before replying.

"The last thing I remember. . .they were at a ball?" he asks, finding it difficult to remember the exact details of the play.

Padmé mocks offense at his words, and she slowly shakes her head.

"You've missed half the play!" she exclaims, "now, the two lovers are married-but they've been separated."

"Horribly tragic," Vader mutters, seemingly quite alright with the fact that he missed half of the production.

Padmé rolls her eyes at his words, and she mutters something under her breath about "men" and "completely emotionless souls."

"I'm going to step out for a minute and stretch my legs," Padmé says, and she slowly stands, "I'll be back in time for the next act."

Vader seems vaguely startled by these words.

"You mean. . .there's more?" he asks, a vague glint of horror appearing in his eyes. Padmé grins before replying.

"Oh. . .we're only halfway through!"

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé quietly slips from the private box into the large corridor, a slight smirk still on her face at the thought of Vader's look of horror.

Padmé slowly walks down the hall, carefully threading her way through the masses of other theatre visitors as she makes her way down the corridor.

Finally she manages to find a more secluded corridor, and here she stands against the wall in an attempt to avoid the swell of other people.

_I probably would have been better off just staying in the box_, Padmé thinks to herself,_ oh well. . .I guess I better make my way back now._

Padmé has barely moved an inch, when she hears a familiar voice call out to her.

"Padmé!"

She slowly turns, a frown forming on her face as she scans the crowds. She searches for a source to this voice, but she can't find a familiar face in the masses that surround her.

She is just turning around once more, when she feels a hand on her shoulder. The hand turns her, and in a moment she is facing the unknown speaker.

Initially upon seeing this figure, Padmé feels a rush of relief. For a moment she had thought that the person calling out to her might be Terric, and she is quite relieved that the person she is faced with is not her persistent admirer.

Quickly, however, she feels a rising sense of nameless panic. She struggles to force a smile as she is faced with her old friend.

"Bail, what are you doing here?" Padmé asks, her voice sounding slightly strained, even to herself.

In response, Bail gives her a look of pleasant surprise, and a sly grin slowly spreads across his face.

"Me? Padmé. . .what are you doing here?"

**~ * O * ~**

**Just in case you didn't catch it. . .the play they saw is based off of Romeo & Juliet.**

**Okay, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Enjoy!**

**… • ∆ • …**

_"__Me? Padmé. . .what are you doing here?"_

For some odd reason, Padmé freezes at this question. Her mouth is frozen in a slight o shape as she prepares to answer, but she finds that she doesn't know quite what to say.

Just the thought of telling her dear friend the truth makes a tremor of unease settle deep inside her. Against her will, her thoughts fly back to the conversation she had had with Bail only a few days earlier. . .

_"__We just talk about. . .politics. . .beliefs. . ."_

Padmé has known for quite awhile that Bail wasn't quite fond of their current rulers way of running things.

_What would he say about my current company_? Padmé thinks to herself.

"I. . .I just heard about the play, and decided to see it," Padmé says plainly, "it's pretty good isn't it?"

Her attempt to avert the subject fails when a sly grin suddenly appears on her friends face.

"I don't suppose you. . .accompanied anyone?" Bail asks, amusement flickering in his tone, "where is he? Can I meet him?"

Padmé's mouth open and closes as she tries to formulate a response. She clears her throat for a moment, before she attempts to continue.

"I-I came alone," Padmé says, and she struggles to hide a wince when she hears the slight stutter in her tone, "it was a last minute arrangement. . .if I'd known you were coming perhaps we could have met up. . ."

Bail watches her carefully for a long moment, and it is quite apparent that he does not wholly believer her story.

"Well then," Bail says slowly, "I suppose you can come sit with us now! We have a spare seat since Senator Gloma was unable to attend. I'm sure our view is much better than whatever last minute ticket you were able to find."

_Better than the emperor's private box_? Padmé's muses to herself, and she has to hide her own slight smile.

"No, I don't-I'm fine with my seat, thank you," Padmé replies lamely. At her poor excuse, suspicion flickers in Bail's eyes.

"Padmé, who-."

But at that moment, the lights begin to dim overhead. This is a notice that the show's brief intermittence is now coming in, and is a sign that patrons should begin to return to their seats.

Padmé breaths a sigh of relief at this welcome distraction.

She calls a quick farewell to Bail, before quickly disappearing into the crowd. She hears her friend call after her, but she acts as though she hasn't heard him over the noise and chatter around them.

Padmé patiently maneuvers her way through the suffocating crowd, until she finally finds herself back at her own seat.

She slides into the private box, a sigh of relief escaping her at accomplishing her walk through the masses.

Vader is still occupying his own seat, and it appears as though he has not moved since she left. Currently, he is leaning back in his chair, a contemplative look flitting across his face. He glances up when she approaches, and a small smile tugs at his lips when she wearily throws herself down in her seat.

"The crowds are ruthless," Padmé mutters, and she wearily rubs a hand across her face, "I actually feared for my life!"

Vader chuckles softly, and Padmé grins in shared amusement. Her companion pauses for a moment, before continuing.

"So, how was your little break?" Vader asks. His tone appears casual, but Padmé can't help but feel a slight shiver at his words. There is nothing menacing about the question, but Padmé can't help but feel suddenly. . .nervous.

The lights continue to dim around them, until the only light is that from the illuminated stage below them.

The glow from these incandescent bulbs cast odd shadows on the rest of the theatre, so that when Padmé turns to face her companion she is unable to read his true expression.

For some reason though, Padmé feels compelled to tell him the truth.

"I ran into Bail," she says softly, as the first notes of music begin to waft from the orchestra below, "it was. . .quite a surprise."

Vader tenses beside her.

The movement is small, almost invisible. If she weren't watching for such a thing, she would have completely missed it.

She files this small note away for later, and she listens carefully to his reply.

"Ah, the Senator from Alderaan," he says slowly, "I was unaware that you were friends."

Padmé nods at his words, and she draws in a relaxing breath before she speaks again.

"We have been friends for quite a long while. He and his wife-they're like my family," she says softly, "I could trust either with anything, and I'm sure-."

Her words cut off suddenly, as though her voice won't allow her to finish her sentence. She swallows carefully, and she keeps her gaze riveted to the stage below as the curtains slowly fold back.

She can sense rather than see Vader shift beside her. She knows from prior experiences that a small frown is currently working its way across his face.

"Has. . .something happened to shake your trust in him?" Vader asks, his tone barely above a murmur.

Inside of Padmé, a war is currently raging.

_To tell. . .or not?_

Bail is one of her closest friends. He has treated her no less than he would his own sister, or daughter. And yet. . .she knows that he is hiding something. She doesn't know what that is, and she isn't quite sure she wants to know.

Vader on the other hand. . .

Known as one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. Second only to the emperor, and a known supporter of their current fascist government. Acts of his ruthlessness are known throughout the star systems, and just the thought of him is enough to make most tremble in fear.

And yet, on multiple occasions now, he has saved her from the smallest of perils.

She has spent time with him, and she is discovering. . .that perhaps there is another side to Darth Vader.

Even though her loyalties should lie with Bail, to whom she is indebted with far more than her life. . .but, for some reason. . .

"He's just. . .been acting strange lately," Padmé says finally, "just a bit different, though I'm not sure why."

Vader is silent for a long moment after she speaks, and when he does reply it is a single word answer.

"Strange."

Padmé swallows lightly, but luckily she is saved from answering when the actors appear on stage. Relief floods through her, and she sags back into her seat.

The remainder of the play runs smoothly. The acting is superb, and the tragic ending is enough to bring sobs from many in the audience.

Padmé, however, finds herself almost detached from her surroundings. Her mind is still stuck on her little half truth.

A slight feeling of guilt is stuck in her stomach, and no distraction seems enough to will it away. Her own words remain present at the front of her thoughts.

She can't help but feel as though, with her hidden truths, she has betrayed someone. That she has let someone down.

Though, for the life of her, she can't seem to figure out who.

**… • ∆ • …**

Bail slides into his seat just as the play is about to start up again. He leans back against his chair, a slight frown on his face as he stares blankly at the room before him.

He can't help but feel as though. . .something is off. Padmé's odd behavior did nothing but increase this ever growing feeling.

Of course, Bail understands why she might want to keep whoever is currently captivating her attention a secret. No matter how much he wishes she would confide in him. . .

But, something about her manner tonight seemed out of place.

He tries to shrug these thoughts away, but they tickle at the corners of his mind. He can't help but feel that something is vaguely _wrong._

Bail leans back in his seat, and he blankly watches the scene of the play before him as it unfolds. His eyes trail after the figures as they move across the stage, but he takes in none of the actual plot.

As his thoughts spin, Bail finally manages to come up with a plan. This idea, at least, is somewhat comforting to him.

When this new plan in mind, Bail finds himself finally able to relax.

_I will enact this tomorrow_, Bail muses to himself.

As the curtains draw closed one final time, and the audience breaks into thunderous applause, Bail's mind remains present with his new thought.

_I will find out who this secret someone is. . .and then, perhaps, these suspicions will be put to rest._

**… • ∆ • …**

When Vader pulls his speeder up outside her apartment, Padmé finds a sudden lack of desire to go inside. Despite her extreme exhaustion, she finds that she would much prefer to not go inside to the oppressive loneliness of her rooms.

She twiddles nervously with the fabric of her dress, before clearing her throat. A smile slips across her face as she turns to face Vader.

Her companion has been oddly quiet since they departed from the theatre, but he quickly turns to face Padmé when she speaks.

"I. . .I had a wonderful time this afternoon," she says, and a smile slowly works its way across her face, "I'm quite glad we decided to go."

Vader bows his head slightly in response. Though he doesn't smile, Padmé can tell by his relaxed expression that he at least isn't annoyed by her presence.

_That's a relief_, her mind mutters.

"I had a nice time as well," Vader says slowly, "perhaps. . .we can do this agains sometime."

The question is left hanging in the air for a long moment, before Padmé realizes that she is supposed to respond.

"Oh, yes!" she says quickly, "I'm free practically whenever, so. . ."

Her voice trails off, and silence falls in the air. It hangs for several long moments, before Vader speaks once more.

"I suppose I will see you tomorrow," he says evenly. Padmé nods in response.

"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow," she says softly in reply.

**… • ∆ • …**

Vader waits until Padmé has entered her apartment before he steers the speeder away from the dock. In moments he has entered Coruscant's heavy traffic, which he maneuvers effortlessly as he makes his way back to his own home.

His thoughts, however, are far from his current task.

Suspicions have begun to form in his mind, ones that refuse to let him rest. Thoughts that won't fade from his mind.

Thoughts of Padmé's conversation with Organa.

_Is it possible that she might. . .that they. _. .his mind thinks distractedly.

_That she might be apart of their cause?_

Vader finds that he dislikes this idea quite a bit. Just the thought of it makes something twist inside of him, and for the first time in a long while his control of the darkness living within him slips.

His thoughts haven't been this scattered, this disorganized, since he was a beginner apprentice. If his master were to try and read his mind at the current moment. . .he'd be an open book.

As his mind toys with the possibility of Padmé's fractured loyalties, other thoughts reign his head.

Like one, particularly important detail. . .

The fact of telling his master what he has learned.

This thought, if anything, makes the uneasiness within Vader grow. The darkness seems to snap lightly, and the very thought of Padmé at Sidious' mercy. . .

_But, he will eventually find out_, Vader thinks to himself_, and then what will happen?_

Vader finds that he doesn't like where these thoughts lead. He is unsure what to think, or where to turn.

Only a month ago, his plan would have been fast and sure. Take the news of Padmé's possible treachery straight to his master, and then await the orders to oversee her interrogation.

Just the idea of interrogating Padmé makes his stomach twist.

A war rages within Vader's mind, two sides battling to take control.

Neither can seem to gain ground against the other.

**… • ∆ • …**

**Okay, so Vader is kinda starting to feel something for Padmé. Maybe all hope is not yet lost!**

**Please Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Rebel activities to come!**

**Enjoy!**

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

For the first time in a long while, when Padmé wakes up she finds that she is almost at peace.

Her sleep was not plagued with the heart-wrenching nightmares of her past, which usually haunted her mind every night.

But, instead, she rests well.

The feeling of almost relaxation continues as she gets herself ready. It is only when she has settled down, and is taking gentle sips from her steaming cup of caf, that the peace breaks.

All because she checks her data pad. . .one little message. . .

It is a message she had received before, but directly from the source.

She still remembers Bail's words clearly.

_We just talk. . .about politics. . .beliefs. . ._

These words echo in her mind as she reads the short message.

_Having a few senators over this afternoon for a little friendly discussion. Hope you can come!_

_-Mon Mothma_

The note, though innocent in appearance, makes Padmé uneasy. A slight pit of dread works its way through her insides, even as she moves to reply.

She can't keep evading their advances. . .and who knows.

Perhaps this is all just her imagination. More than likely, it truly is just what is seems from the outside.

Just a few senators, gathering together in mild secrecy, to discuss their views of the current government and its ruler.

Padmé finishes her vague reply, and she hurriedly sends it before she can second guess her own actions.

_I'll see you there!_

The small pit of dread only seems to grow.

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

Padmé tries not to let too much of her nervousness show as Mon leads her to the sitting room.

"I-I'm not going to be able to stay long," Padmé mutters to her friend as she is dragged forward, "I have a meeting in a few hours-."

Mon cuts her off with a wave of her hand, and a careless smile.

"Don't worry, you can leave whenever you wish," Mon replies, her grin broadening as she guides Padmé to a spare seat.

Already Mon's spacious sitting room is filled. Figures of different species lounge and stand in the respective area. There idle chatter echoes softly off of the walls.

Padmé searches for a familiar face, and she eventually sees Bail standing off to the side. Her elation at seeing him, however, dims considerably when she realizes just who he is comfortably conversing with.

Terric.

The sight of her deluded admirer is enough to make Padmé ready to race for the exit.

Unluckily for her, Mon decides that now is the time for the meeting to start. When the young woman begins to speak, quiet falls over the room. Any chance Padmé had of making a quiet escape fades as silence overtakes the crowded space.

Padmé struggles to draw her attention away from Terric, even as she feels his eyes now on her. She instead tries to focus on Mon, on what the senator is saying.

"Welcome, friends," she begins, and her quiet but commanding tone instantly silences the remaining chatterers. Still, she pauses to make sure she has everyone's absolute attention before she continues.

"We are very glad to have some new faces this meeting," several gazes fall on Padmé, with more than a little interest, "as we are always quite happy to have new input. Fresh ideas."

Several nod in agreement, and a new wave of chatter rises up. Mon waits for silence to fall once more before she continues.

"As is usual, our first order of business is reports. If you would all please turn your attention to Dara. . ."

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

When the last word has finally been spoken, when the meeting finally comes to a close, it is all Padmé can do to refrain herself from sprinting for the door.

As it is, she somehow manages to maintain a dignified walk. Her features reveal none of the unease, the worry, that is bubbling inside her. That is growing with every passing second.

She has almost made it to the exit-to freedom. . .when a voice calls her to a stop.

"What a pleasure to see you here Padmé. What a. . .nice surprise."

Padmé mentally braces herself as she turns to face the speaker. Though she tries her hardest, she cannot even find the will to force a smile.

"Oh, Mon and Bail invited me a few times. . .so here I am."

The words taste dry in her mouth, even though she tries to force a bit of emotion into her tone. Somehow, Terric doesn't pick up on her apparent lack of enthusiasm, as he plunges further into their dull conversation.

"So. . .what do you think?" he asks, his grin broadening as he waits for her reply.

Padmé freezes for a moment, her mind suddenly drawing a blank. Frantically, she casts her thoughts back to the past hour. . .to the mass of information. . .

_Empire forces moving. . .tax laws increasing. . .what is the Emperor thinking. . .more soldiers being recruited daily. . ._

Every word, every sentence had been spoken in polite, innocent tones. In fact, the topics discussed were completely, absolutely ordinary.

And yet. . .Padmé can't help but feel. . .as thought it was all a test.

Specific details jump to her mind. Questions aimed directly to her. Hard questions, asked to make her think.

_"__Padmé, what do you think about the current system?"_

_"__Do you have any ideas on the new tax laws?"_

_"__The emperor, Padmé. Tell us, what do you think?"_

After an hour of veiled questions and hidden meanings, Padmé is exhausted. A headache is forming behind her eyes, and the small bit of self control she still retains is quickly fading.

It is with gritted teeth that she replies. She splashes what she hopes is a pleased smile across her face as she speaks.

"It was great. . .really nice to hear so many new ideas," she replies plainly, "now, if you will excuse me, I have an important meeting."

Terric nods, bowing his head slightly.

"Alright, I guess I'll see your around, Padmé-."

His last words fall on empty space, as Padmé has already fled the room.

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

Padmé stares blankly at the opposite wall, her eyes slowly trailing the hands of the wall chrono as it crawls in its continuous circle.

The events of the earlier meeting still remain present in her thoughts.

Her headache has spread, and now even the slightest movement causes pain to pound her skull.

The dull, drone of their current speaker does nothing to ease her growing weariness. Whatever thing he happens to be saying floats in one ear and out the other.

Padmé is sure it isn't of any importance anyway.

Finally, after a small eternity, the meeting ends.

Padmé pushes herself from her chair, and she dazedly makes her way out of the room.

She feels almost as though a weight is pressing down on her as she makes her way back to her office, and it takes every ounce of her will to keep her feet moving forward. She's afraid that if she stops, she will remain forever frozen in the hallway. Her eyes staring blankly at the space before her.

Her mind is so clouded, so confused, that it takes her a moment to realize that someone has called her name.

Slowly, she turns. Her mind doesn't register who the speaker is until she spins to face him.

Instantly, she freezes.

A small part of her is glad that the halls are nearly empty at the moment, that most of the senators have gone home for the day.

Another, much larger part, wishes that the halls were filled with people. That there were crowds, masses of people, that she could slip away into. That she could easily disappear.

She struggles to hide the sudden flash of worry, of anxiety that strikes her when the figure who had spoken comes to stand before her.

Concern flickers over the man's features as he speaks again.

"Padmé, is something wrong?" Vader asks, a slight frown gracing his expression.

Padmé dully shakes her head, and when she tries to reply. . .she finds that she is unable to. Because, to speak. . . no matter what she said would only be a betrayal to a friend.

No, it is far better to remain silent.

Vader's frown deepens at her lack of verbal response, and Padmé averts her gaze from the concern she sees reflected in his eyes.

"Padmé," Vader asks again, his tone holding a slight twinge of authority now, "what is it?"

Once again Padmé simply shakes her head. Her headache seems to grow with every passing second, the constant pounding growing stronger.

There is a long silence.

In this time, Padmé puts every ounce of her will into keeping her gaze averted. She doesn't want to see the concern reflected in his bright blue eyes, because she's afraid what will happen if she happens to get lost in their depths.

Her will to remain silent might break.

Still, even though she refuses to face him, she can feel his eyes on her. Several, long moments pass before he finally speaks again.

"Come with me."

The sentence is vague, and though it is voiced as a suggestion-it is obviously a command.

Padmé silently obeys.

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

Only a few minutes later, she is seated in Vader's office. A steaming cup of tea is cupped in her hands, and the soothing warmth helps to soothe her somewhat. The healing brew takes off the harsh edge of her headache, and it makes the sharp pounding fall to a less noticeable ache.

Vader waits until she is seated comfortable in one of the room's plush couches before he speaks. When he does speak, he cuts straight to the point, with no efforts of diversion.

"Padmé, please tell me what's wrong."

The young woman is silent for several moments, in which time she keeps her gaze level on her cup's watery depths. After many seconds pass, she speaks.

"I. . .a lot is happening," she says finally, and she chooses each word carefully, "I suppose the stress is a bit much-."

"Don't lie."

The words snap out before she can finish.

There is no harsh undercurrent in his tone, instead his words sound almost weary. As though he is tired of the universe's lies, of it's half truths.

Vader draws in a long breath before he continues.

"Either reply, or don't," he replies softly, "just. . .please don't lie."

Padmé swallows lightly before moving to speak again.

This time, though she chooses her words with caution, she tries to focus only on the truth.

"I. . .it's complicated," she begins, her tone shaky as she speaks, "I mean. . .have you ever been. . .conflicted over something?"

Vader appraises her for several long seconds, and Padmé finds it vaguely unnerving that she can read nothing of his true emotions.

Several moments pass before he speaks, and when he does it is a simple reply.

"Yes."

Padmé bows her had at this short answer, and she draws in a deep breath before continuing.

"Then you understand," she says quietly. Her tone is barely above a murmur.

Her question causes Vader to pause, and a frown flickers briefly over his features.

Quickly though, this emotion disappears. Instead, it is replaced by an emotion that eases Padmé's worries, her fears.

Understanding.

Slowly, he nods, and a sudden weariness falls over his features. Vader's gaze slowly drags away from her, and it falls on Coruscant's endless city skyline.

Padmé watches as his eyes slowly trace the buildings. She can see the thoughts as they spin through his mind.

Several long minutes, a short eternity in itself, pass before he finally comes to a decision. Slowly, he nods to himself.

"I understand," he says softly in reply.

There is a slight undercurrent of sadness in his tone.

What he mourns, what he has lost-Padmé doesn't know.

All she does know, is that he understands her pain. Her conflicted emotions. And, for now, that is enough.

For now she simply needs someone who understands.

She needs to know she is not alone.

**. ˚ • O • ˚ .**

**They truly are a broken pair.**

**Please Review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, hopefully this chapter helps to explain Padmé & Vader's pasts a little bit. . .**

**Warning:Cliffhanger**

**Enjoy!**

**. º • O • º .**

_How do I get roped into these situations?_ Padmé thinks to herself. She shifts slightly in her chair, and she fights the urge to rub her sore cheeks.

Who knew pretending to smile could hurt so much.

Padmé struggles to keep her attention on the topic at hand. The voices of her companions flutter around her, and their meaningless chatter hangs heavy in the air.

She takes a tiny sip from her glass of wine. This gives Padmé a momentary reprieve from the current conversation. The smile slides from her face, and she intently watches her companions over the rim of her glass.

Bail, smiling and joyful, his laughter easy to be heard. Mon, seated beside him, smiling softly at whatever has her friend so amused. Terric, who is currently seated by her side and gloriously occupied by someone sitting off to the side.

There a few other senators and statesmen seated around the long table, but Padmé knows none of them past last name basis.

In fact, there are a few she has never spoken to before in her life. There are several who have never paid her the slightest bit of attention before.

Slowly, surely, the pieces are beginning to click together in her mind.

The only conclusion she can come to, however, is so outlandish. . .so impossible. . .and yet so, completely probable.

Even though there are several key points leading towards this particular solution. . .Padmé is not quite ready to accept this as fact.

So, she listens, she watches, and on the rare occasion when she is called into the discussion-she answers with precision and calculation.

Especially when it concerns her past.

"Senator Amidala, how are things back on Naboo? I've heard that the recovery efforts since the. . .incident have been quite effective," Senator Kalyll asks. The young woman, representing her home planet of Inwil, sends Padmé a sympathetic smile.

As though she truly cares for Padmé's home, her people.

Padmé hesitates for only a moment before replying. Immediately two responses flash in her mind.

First and foremost is the prerecorded answer. The one she uses every time someone asks about the state of Naboo. The one she is so rehearsed in versing that she could say it backwards in her sleep.

_Everything is fine, we are quite grateful to the Empire for their help since the battle all those years ago. . .we are forever indebted for the safety they provide to us. . .the protection. . ._

The other answer, is the truth.

For some reason, Padmé pauses in her reply. She runs both answers through her mind, though it takes no thought at all to know what answer they wish to hear.

Padmé already knows that this is another one of their tests.

She glances up slightly, turning her gaze away from Kalyll. Her eyes fall on Bail, who sits across from her.

He gives her an encouraging smile.

Padmé stares at him for a long moment, before turning back to Kalyll, who is still waiting for a reply. Padmé does not miss the sudden silence that has fallen over the table, the sudden attentive gazes that are cast her way.

In this moment, she chooses which story to tell.

The one she does choose, is not of a battle long since past. Of a planet attacked without warning, of cities swarmed with droids and clones alike.

She does not tell the story of how a young woman lost her family, her friends. She does not mention the lives lost in the small battle. The tiny skirmish that only ended in their inevitable surrender.

She does not mention how, when her people called out for help, for assistance, no one answered.

Instead, Padmé repeats the words that she has already spoken a hundred, a thousand times. She recites the lines with almost mechanical precision, her tone dry and devoid of emotion.

She can tell by the expressions of those listening that this is not what they want to hear, but Padmé cannot gather the will to care.

She is tired of their tests.

**. º • O • º .**

Vader kneels on the hard ground of the throne room. His head is carefully bowed, and he waits silently for his master to speak.

He can sense Sidious' displeasure quite clearly. It rings through the force with perfect clarity, and Vader is currently trying to decide whether this slip of emotion is intentional or simply a lack of focus on his master's part.

Vader is currently leaning towards the former option.

"I am_ disappointed_ with your lack of information," Sidious hisses sharply, his voice snapping as he paces before his throne, "I would have thought that you would bring me something of value by now."

Vader does not raise his head as he answers his master, he is careful to keep his eyes trained on the tiles before him.

He learned long ago that even the slightest of missteps would earn him the harshest of punishments. Currently, at least by his master's standards, his failure to bring forth information is far from a small misstep.

"I am. . .starting to rethink our approach to this mission," Vader says slowly. He chooses each of his words carefully.

He already walks a thin line.

Sidious pauses in his pacing, and a flicker of almost surprise flashes through the force. In response Vader only slams his mental shields tighter.

"Is there a particular reason for this. . .change of heart?" Sidious hisses softly, and he slowly resumes his pacing. Vader doesn't hesitate in his reply. He can give his master no reason to question his motives.

"I simply believe that she might not be the best way to get to Organa," Vader says simply in reply.

Sidious is quiet for a long moment, and the only sound that strikes the hall is the soft swish of his cape against the ground. Finally, he speaks.

"Or. . .perhaps our current method of obtaining information from her is. . .ineffective," Sidious says slowly, "maybe Organa would be more willing to talk if we gave him. . .incentive to."

A chill runs up Vader's skin at his master's words. He knows precisely what Sidious' alternative methods entail, and he knows just who his master will call upon to oversee these information gathering techniques.

Just the thought of watching someone interrogate Padmé, or worse. . .having to do get information from her himself. . .

A sudden rush of emotion floods him. A swirling mixture of fear and anger.

"I. . .don't think that is a good idea, master."

The words tumble from Vader's lips. He regrets them as soon as they leave his mouth, and yet. . .he feels somewhat better in saying them aloud.

_"__What?"_

Sidious practically snarls the word, and Vader represses a shudder at the sudden anger he hears in his master's tone. Vader opens his mouth in an attempt to speak further, to remedy the damage done, but it is too late.

"If you remember,_ boy_, it is I who saved you from your poor, miserable existence. If it weren't for me, you'd still be slaving away in the sands of Tatooine. You_ dare _question me? Would you rather be back where I first found you?"

Vader shivers slightly as Sidious' shouted words fall on him. In a moment he is pulled back, the memory rushing over him.

_The sun shining bright overhead. The scent of decay, of death, lying heavy in the air._

_His mother's body. Her face barely recognizable from the bruises and dried blood._

_Her killers, a couple of drunken smugglers, laughing over her broken remains._

_Him, a youngling of six, screaming, crying. Shouting to his mother's fallen form, begging her to answer him._

_The darkness rising within him._

_Two more bodies joined his mother's that day._

"Do you not remember how I saved you? How I dragged you from that miserable existence, into the life you have today?"

_A stranger, cloaked in darkness. Telling him to follow, to obey._

_The dark man, leading him away from his home. Turning him from his mother's body, and refusing to let him looking back._

"I remember," Vader hisses in reply.

How can he forget the day he traded one form of slavery for another?

"Do you?" Sidious hisses in reply, a dangerous note striking his voice, "are you sure about that?"

Before Vader can reply, his master attacks.

He curses himself for not seeing the attack sooner, for not trying to block it. Even though he knows defending himself will only grant him harsher punishment, he would still feel better in knowing that he at least tried to fight back.

The lightning rips through him, it sears his very soul. It lasts for an endless eternity, one that stretches on in a seemingly never-ceasing loop.

When the pain finally does come to an end, Vader cannot move. He cannot lift his head from the ground, even as his master comes to kneel beside his fallen form.

Faintly he hears his master call out orders to the stormtroopers positioned outside the hall. The words are somewhat blurry. . .something about returning him to the Senate building in time for some meeting. . .

All thoughts of this confusing occurrence flee Vader's mind as his master turns his attention to him. He shivers as his master bends to whisper the final taunt in his ear.

"Does this refresh your memory, Lord Vader?" Sidious hisses sharply.

As Vader's mind fades from consciousness, it is Sidious' cruel laughter that chases him into the dark.

**. º • O • º .**

**(a few hours later)**

Padmé doesn't know why she's nervous.

She hovers just outside the door, her hand poised and ready to knock.

_Why am I here again_? her mind wonders, hoping to distract her from the task at hand.

She tries to push these thoughts from her mind, but it is already too late. With every passing second this single question grows louder in her mind.

_I suppose the better question would be. . .why am I simply standing outside Vader's office, waiting to knock?_

She has been standing outside his office, staring at the door, for several minutes. . .to any onlooker she must look crazy or stupid.

_Perhaps I am both. . ._

Padmé draws in a deep breath, before gently rapping her knuckles across the door. Not a moment passes, before the panel slides open.

Cautiously, Padmé steps into the spacious office. Her eyes slowly trail across the room, and a slight frown crosses her face when she does not immediately see office's usual occupant.

She takes a few steps into the room, and she contemplates her options.

She can leave, and perhaps return later. . .she can simply forget this ever happened. . .she'll probably see him tomorrow. . .

All these thoughts flee from her mind in an instant. A small gasp escapes her, and her heart freezes.

Her eyes widen, and panic fills her, as she takes in Vader's lifeless form.

**. º • O • º .**

**To be continued. . .**

**Please Review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Enjoy!**

**~ * O * ~**

_Her eyes widen, and panic fills her, as she takes in Vader's lifeless form. . ._

A long moment passes. Padmé's shock rules her for only a second, before she is rushing forward.

She throws herself down at his side. Padmé gently reaches forward, and she turns his head to face her.

"Vader? Vader?"

Her voice holds a slight sign of desperation, and it take all of her self control to keep herself from shaking him.

"Please. . .please be okay. . ." Padmé finds herself muttering. It is with shaking hands that she searches for a pulse, for some sign of life.

When she does finally find the steady _thrum_ of a heartbeat, she manages to relax marginally. The pulse is faint, not near as strong as it should be, and this worries Padmé.

Padmé leans back slightly, and she bites her lip as she observes her fallen friend.

_Should I call a medic? Should I move him?_ Padmé wonders. At the moment she is at a complete loss of what to do.

Just as she is about to go comm for a medical droid, Vader shifts beside her. A slight grimace crosses his features, and slowly his eyes flutter open.

He blinks slowly, and a look of confusion crosses his face as he takes in the concerned face hovering above him.

"Padmé. . .?" Vader mumbles, his voice holding tinges of uncertainty.

"It's me," Padmé hurries to reassure him, "I'm here."

Vader shifts lightly, and a frown crosses his face. His eyes slide closed once more, and he draws in a deep breath before speaking.

"Why. . .are you here?" Vader asks. His frown deepens as he waits for a reply.

Padmé pauses in her answer. She blinks slowly as she searches for a reasonable reply.

She certainly doesn't want to tell him the truth. . .at least, not now.

"Umm. . .we'll talk about that later," Padmé says quickly, "right now lets focus on the more important details. Are you okay?"

In answer, Vader sighs lightly. He draws in another deep breath, before pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Wait. . .you were just. . .I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to move. . .we should probably get medical droid. . ."

Vader ignores Padmé's fluttered words, and he slowly pulling himself into a standing position. Padmé rises with him, and she hovers at his side as he slowly makes his way to one of the couches in the office.

His steps only falter slightly, and when he collapses onto the couch he manages to pull himself into a sitting position.

Padmé takes a carefully seat beside him. She perches on the edge of the cushion, concern still fluttering across her features.

Vader relaxes back into the seat, and his eyes slide closed once more. For a single moment, Padmé catches a glimpse of pain on his face. . .but it is gone in a flash.

"What happened?"

The words slip unbidden from Padmé's lips.

She doesn't know what surprises her more. Her sudden words, or the fact that Vader actually answers her intruding question.

"My master has. . .a cruel sense of what is deemed worthy punishment," Vader says dryly. His voice holds a hint of grim amusement.

Padmé's eyes widen slightly at his words.

"The. . .the emperor did this?" Padmé asks, and Vader slowly nods, "but. . .why?"

For some reason her question seems to trouble Vader. He turns his gaze away from her, and he instead trains his eyes on the view outside the office. He stares blindly at the busy traffic of Coruscant.

"It was. . .a reminder," Vader says plainly.

Despite his reasonably vague answer, Padmé can't help but think that there is something he doesn't want her to know.

A fleeting sense of uncertainty flutters within her.

This feeling lasts for only a moment, before she pushes it away. She dismisses it as a side effect of her worries.

"Are you alright now? Do you need a medic? Should I-," Padmé's words come in a rush, but Vader cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

"No, Padmé, I'm fine," he says, and a slight smile crosses his features, "I'm just a bit tired. . ."

Concern flickers across Padmé's face at his words. Worry alights inside her when she hears the weariness in his tone.

"Are you sure I shouldn't call for some help?" Padmé asks. Vader slowly shakes his head.

"No, I'll be fine," Vader says smoothly, "I suppose. . .I will see you tomorrow?"

This quick dismissal only makes Padmé's concern grow. She finds that she is far from happy with the idea of leaving him alone here, when he found him passed out on the ground only a few moments ago.

Besides, she can't help but notice the sudden tone that appears in his voice. He sounds almost. . .shaken. He won't look her directly in the eye.

Padmé's mind immediately zones in on these small details, and instantly the uncertainty that had left her only moments before returns.

_What doesn't he want me to know_? Padmé wonders.

However, in a flash these small slips are reigned in. Once more, he is the cool and collected leader.

This sudden change leaves Padmé mildly confused, and wondering if her imagination is simply getting away from her.

"Yes. . .I suppose I will see you tomorrow," Padmé says, and she offers a weak smile. Vader nods in agreement.

Padmé pushes herself up, and slowly begins to make her way towards the door. Her steps are somewhat hesitant. She truly does not wish to leave him here, alone.

She has only gone a few steps towards the door, when Vader calls out to her. She immediately freezes, and hope worms its way into her heart.

"Padmé," he says, and she quickly turns around when he speaks.

"Yes?" she asks as she faces him once more.

Vader pauses lightly, and a shadow of a smile crosses his face as he speaks.

"Thank you, for your genuine concern," he says softly, "it is. . .a rare thing, and. . .I find it truly nice."

Padmé is surprised at his words. She can't stop the flutter of warmth that alights her heart at them, just as she cannot stop the smile now spreading across her face.

"You're welcome," she says softly in reply.

**~ * O * ~**

As Padmé takes an air taxi back to her apartment, joy is still flowing strongly in her veins.

She can't help but feel as though she has accomplished something, though she can't quite determine what this is.

All she knows is that she feels almost as though she is floating. A warmth settles in her bones, and a smile graces her face. She hasn't felt this good since. . .since she was with her family. When her sister, and parents were still alive.

However, it appears as though fate is a cruel mistress. One who longs to tear down Padmé's lightened mood.

For, gracing her doorstep, lying in wait like a nexu stalking it's prey. . .

Sits Terric.

Padmé almost orders the taxi's driver to take her somewhere, anywhere else. . .but alas he has already stopped.

"This is it, isn't miss?" the orange skinned driver asks as he pulls up before Padmé's apartment.

She mumbles a soft yes, before paying him. She has no choice but to exit now, as Terric has already noticed her arrival.

Slowly, she disembarks from the speeder, and she braces herself for what is too come.

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé must admit that, when it comes to inviting oneself into someone else's home (whether said company is wanted or not) Terric is quite efficient.

Though Padmé tries to excuse herself with the terrible affliction of exhaustion, Terric either doesn't get her more than subtle hints . . .or he simply is ignoring him.

At this point, Padmé is seriously beginning to lean towards the latter option.

Of course, her current situation cannot be completely blamed upon Terric.

No, as she serves him a glass of wine and a plate of shurra fruit slices, she curses her own meek, kind heart.

_Why can I not ever simply turn someone away?_ she asks herself.

As Terric digs into the shurra slices, he keeps up a steady stream of conversation. At the moment he is naming off details on the more prominent members of the government. For the most part, Padmé tunes out his mindless babble.

That is, until he says something that happens to catch her attention.

"Yeah, if only we could get some info on Vader. . .no one knows anything about him. . ."

Padmé perks up slightly at this, and she hurriedly cuts in before he can change the topic to a less interesting branch.

"What?" Padmé asks, and she struggles to make her tone seem nonchalant, "you don't have a lot of infer on him?"

Terric nods at this, and he seems excited by the prospect that Padmé is finally interested in something he has to say.

"Yeah, we have almost nothing on him," Terric says, "the guy practically appeared out of nowhere a few years ago, and he's been wrecking havoc to our cause ever since."

For some reason, Padmé is able to ignore the second half of his statement. At the moment, she could care less about Vader's violent tendencies.

_What does that say about me_? Padmé thinks subconsciously. She tries not to dwell on that particular subject for too long, as she finds she doesn't like where that line of thought takes her.

"What is the. . .extent of your knowledge on Vader?" Padmé asks. She finds it increasingly difficult to keep the traces of intrigue from her tone.

Luckily, Terric doesn't seem to pick up on her unusual fascination in this particular topic. He seems more than willing to answer her questions.

"Beyond the point where the emperor brought him to light about three years ago. . .we have nothing," Terric says, and he shrugs lightly, "and I'm pretty sure you know the basic details from that point on."

Terric slowly shakes his head, and a frown crosses his face. When he speaks again, his voice holds an almost mournful tone.

"I remember the day he first came to power. . .when he replaced Lord Tyranus," Terric says, and he slowly shakes his head, "we all thought him so innocent then. . .he was still a teenager! However, we soon learned the truth. . ."

Terric shakes his head sadly, and Padmé is careful to mimic his mournful expression.

In truth, she is still too focused on his earlier words to really focus on Terric's latest statement.

She pauses before speaking, and she chooses her words carefully.

"So. . .you don't know anything about this man?" Padmé asks one last time, and Terric nods.

"We don't even know his real name. . ." Terric says, and as though realizing Padmé might be confused at his statement she explains, "oh, Vader certainly isn't his real name. It's more of a. . .title. His kind, the Sith, does that."

Padmé nods, already understanding that concept. She remembers the day when _Supreme Chancellor Palpatine_ uncovered his true self quite clearly.

However, she had never before entertained the thought that Vader. . .might not be Vader's name.

Of course, her curiosity has been piqued to an interesting level lately, due to the circumstances.

Terric continues on with the string of conversation, and steadily they make their way back to less interesting topics. Once more, Padmé listens with half an ear.

Her thoughts are far more focused on this new idea. She turns it over, again and again in her mind.

_I don't even know his real name._

Padmé idly sips from her wine glass, and she nods at whatever new topic Terric has chosen (from what little she does hear, it appears to be the unnatural increase in rain they've had lately).

Her thoughts are far from her current company.

**~ * O * ~**

**Okay, so more to come! Perhaps Padmé will finally learn more about Vader. . .**

**Please Review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Enjoy!**

**~ * O * ~**

Imperial Day.

Somehow, Padmé was able to forget that such a horrid event was approaching. Though she had been dreading the return of the terrible holiday ever since it's end the previous year, somehow she was able to distract herself of its return this year.

Perhaps. . .her company as of late has something to do with this. . .

Now though, Padmé is suddenly reminded of the dreaded day, of the terrible memories it represents.

The memories of the day hang fresh in her mind. Somehow, just the thought of the approaching celebrations make the memories are far more present in her thoughts.

Though the exact day passed just thirteen years ago. . .she can recall each moment with perfect clarity.

_The screams of her people as the imperials invade the city. The sounds of blaster fire, and the whine of fighters as they circle above the city._

_The footsteps of the messenger, entering her office in the palace. She can already read the terrible news in his expression, he need not even open his mouth. . ._

_An attack. . .your family's home. . .I'm so sorry. . ._

On the days when Padmé wonders if she should have held out longer, if she should have attempted to fight the Empire's control. . .

The simple memory of the broken, too-small bodies of children littering the streets is enough for her to decide that she made the right choice.

Despite what the consequences now may be, the death toll could have been far worse.

Padmé chose to deal with the empire, to sign a treaty with its grand ruler, so that her own people could survive.

Sometimes though, she can't help but wonder. . .

Is survival. . .really living?

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé slides into her seat at the meeting table. At the moment it is only her measurable levels of self-control that are keeping her from burying her head in her hands.

_If one more person asks me what I plan to do on that cursed holiday_. . .Padmé thinks to herself.

The ball, a celebration in remembrance of the creation of the empire, is already bad enough.

"So," Bail asks casually as he slides into the seat beside her, "what exactly do you plan to do this Empire Day?"

The glare that Padmé casts towards her friend is enough to make him laugh, but apparently it doesn't hold enough menace for him to drop the subject.

"I'll take that as a possible no," Bail says with a smile, "have you thought much about the ball? You know that attendance is practically mandatory for such an event."

Padmé rolls her eyes lightly, before sighing.

"I'll probably go for a little bit, then sneak away," Padmé says, and she forces a light smile, "I'm sure that will be enough."

Bail nods lightly, and he moves to speak - but he pauses for a moment. A mischievous smile slips across his mouth, and Padmé instantly feels a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

"I don't suppose that I will be able to meet the young man who's been taking up so much of your time?" Bail says with a grin, "I find it slightly odd that you haven't introduced me yet."

Padmé stiffens, before schooling her expression into her best face of indifference.

"I have no idea whom exactly you are referring to," Padmé says lightly. Bail laughs, his disbelief at her words quite obvious.

"Padmé, you cannot fool me," Bail says evenly, "I can see the lift in your mood. Whoever it is who has done this - I would be honored to meet them. I owe them a multitude of thanks."

Padmé's heart warms lightly at his words, but this light feeling only remains for a second before the dread sets in once more.

If Bail knew who her company truly was. . .she knows that he would be more than quick in recalling his words of praise.

Padmé is just about to speak, to try and convince Bail that his ideas are, in fact, false. . .when the room falls silent.

Gazes are averted as the now familiar presence walks briskly into the room.

Padmé, instead of looking away, carefully watches Vader as he makes his way to the head of the room.

The last time she spoke to him, she had just found him out cold on the floor of her office. Three days have past since then, and though Padmé was reassured by their parting words. . .

She can't help but have her worries.

It is only when, just as Vader is pausing at the head of his room, he turns back around. . .

Padmé catches just the hint of a smile as she catches his gaze. She returns the slight gesture (which, for Vader might as well be a warm grin) with a soft smile of her own.

With some effort on her own part, she manages to pull her gaze away from him. She turns her attention towards their current speaker, and she struggles to focus on whatever discussion they will be speaking on today.

For some reason, today's speeches seem infinitely more dull than usual.

All Padmé wants at the moment, is to be away from the cold eyes of her fellow senators. She wants to be alone with one of the only people who has ever truly listened, and understood. . .

Of course, with her endless amount of time during the hour long speech, her mind has plenty of time to wander.

Slowly, her thoughts trail back to the impending Imperial Day, now only a few days away. . .

It is with a sudden ache that she remembers. . .

The company she desires to be with. . .is one of the Empire's greatest supporters.

A dry, humorless smile crosses her face at the very thought. Padmé is only just able to keep herself from releasing a mirthless laugh.

Funny how, when one is happy. . .they are able to overlook such things.

Because, the more time Padmé spends with Vader. . .the less she finds herself caring about his allegencies, of his merciless acts.

_What does that make me_? she wonders to herself.

**~ * O * ~**

Padmé is almost back to her office, her thoughts still flooding with less than pleasant things. . .when a voice calls out to her.

Instantly, Padmé cringes. Her eyes jump to the door, that lies only a few feet ahead of her.

_So close. . .so very, very close. . ._

"Padmé, I'm so glad I caught you!" Terric says as he falls instep beside her. His satisfied grin alone is enough to make Padmé feel nauseous.

"Oh, well I've just been. . .a bit busy lately," Padmé says evenly.

_Not like I've been _trying _to avoid you_. . .Padmé thinks dryly to herself.

Terric smiles at her, and he nods lightly at her words.

Padmé comes to a stop before the entrance to her office, in the hopes that this meeting will be brief.

Terric, for all of his obtuseness, seems to take note of the fact that Padmé does not invite him inside. However, this small fact does not seem to deter him much.

"Padmé," Terric says slowly, a soft smile appearing on his face, "I was just wondering. . .if you would be my date to the Imperial Ball?"

Padmé freezes at his words. Her heart stutters for a moment, and her breath catches in her throat.

Terric stares at her, a sure smile on his face as he awaits her reply.

"What?"

This squeaked word is all that Padmé is able to mutter, all that she is able to get past the knot in her throat.

Terric frowns lightly at her less than enthusiastic answer, and he carefully elaborates on his invitation.

"The ball," he says evenly, his smile returning once more, "it would be an honor if you would attend it with me."

Terric falls silent, his grin returning with full force as he awaits what he is obviously sure to be a positive reply.

Padmé, however, is stuck.

_What can I possibly say? _her mind practically shrieks.

_Say something. . .anything!_

"I can't."

The words tumble from her mouth, the first thing that slips into her mind. In an instant, Terric's smile is gone once again, and it is once more replaced by that small frown.

"Whatever do you mean?" Terric asks, the note of surety that was in his voice only moments before now long gone, "Padmé, you know attendance is practically mandatory. You wouldn't wish to draw unwanted attention to yourself."

No, that is by far the last thing she wants.

"That's. . .that's not it," Padmé finds herself saying. Her words are no longer her own, her thought process having been taken over by some foreign force.

"Then. . .what do you mean?" Terric asks, his voice now sounding less than pleasant.

Padmé takes a deep breath, but she quickly finds that she does not even have to search for the correct words to say.

However, she finds that she is not required to search far.

No, in only a moment she dooms herself to her own fate.

"I've already been asked."

Terric's eyes widen at her words, and Padmé is sure that his expression of surprise is a near perfect reflection of her own. Several long moments pass, in which Terric's mouth slowly opens and closes repeatedly, before he finally speaks.

"May I. . .ask whom?" Terric asks, his voice sounding somewhat strangely pitched.

Just as Padmé is floundering for a suitable reply, she is saved by her faithful secretary.

The young blonde pokes her head out of the door, and she gently calls to her employer.

"Senator Amidala," Cinda calls, "the representative for Dantooine is on the line. He says that it is quite urgent."

The wave of relief that overtakes her is overpowering, but Padmé does not take a moment to dwell on it. She rushes forward, only calling out a farewell to Terric as she slips out of the door.

"So sorry," she calls, "we'll have to catch up later!"

She slides the door closed before Terric can even speak. The senator is left standing out in the corridor, a look of shock still plastered on his face.

Padmé struggles not to sag in relief against the closed door, and she instead turns to face her secretary.

To the surprise of the young blonde, Padmé throws her arms around him.

"Thank you so much, Cinda," she says with a grin as she draws back. Cinda blinks lightly, surprise crossing her features. Only a moment passes though, before a grin graces her features as well.

"Oh, it was nothing," Cinda says, and she giggles lightly, "anyone with eyes could see that you didn't want to be stuck talking to him!"

Cinda rolls her eyes lightly, and she sighs before continuing.

"That man has been pestering you for weeks! How long will it take for him to get the hint!" Cinda exclaims, and she pauses lightly before continuing. When she does speak again, a sly grin crosses her face.

"Senator, if you ever need someone to tell him off. . .just ask," she says with a laugh. Padmé smiles, relief filling her as she replies.

"I might just take you up on that offer," Padmé says evenly, "for now though. . .I will remain ever hopeful that he will simply loose interest."

"I don't know," Cinda says lightly, as she slowly makes her way back to her desk, "I've seen men like that before. . .they don't give up until they have what they want."

Padmé frowns slightly at her secretary's words.

Though Terric had been nothing if not persistent, he had never shown any ill intent towards herself. . .

Padmé struggles to push this new line of thought away, as it will do her no good to dwell on such things.

Quickly, she finds a new worry to dominate her thoughts. In an instant, she finds that she regrets her quick words earlier words to Terric.

_Where in the galaxy will I find a date?_

**~ * O * ~**

**I don't know Padmé. . .I don't think you'll have to search so far. . .**

**Okay, please review! Interesting things are to come!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, this chapter is. . .exciting! **

**Enjoy!**

**• ∞ ****Ω ∞ •**

To say that Vader's day had been terrible. . .would be an understatement.

Even as he sits in the peaceful confines of his office, he can practically feel his master's oppressive presence. If he didn't know better, he would say that the emperor were in the very room, watching his every move. . .

_You're just getting paranoid,_ Vader mutters to himself, and he tries to push these thoughts from his mind.

Fear is not becoming of a Sith.

The reason for the emperor's sudden watchfulness. . .are Vader's less than pleasing results.

He has spent hour after hour in dark, confining rooms, interrogating the rebels that have been caught.

Every questioning always ends the same way. When it becomes obvious that they don't have the information he needs, Vader will kill them.

Of course, he draws out their deaths as much as he can. After the hours he spends listening to the men's mocking replies, Vader elicits a morbid pleasure in making their pain last as long as possible.

Vader sighs, and he rubs a hand wearily across his face as he observes the data pad before him.

_Of course, on top of all my duties, the emperor would command me to go to the ball as well. . ._

Vader tries to push the horrible event from his mind, and he instead tries to focus on the stack of reports before him.

_. . .possible Jedi sighting in the Outer Rim. . .troops sent to contain rebellion on Fornax. . .abandoned Rebel base found in the Dail Sector. . ._

However, just as the words are starting to blur before his eyes, a timid knock rings through the room.

Annoyance flickers within him at the distraction, and he reaches out with his senses to find out who could possible be causing such an interruption. . .

_If it is that dreadful senator from Lirra again. . ._Vader grumbles to himself.

But that is not who stands outside his door.

In a moment, Vader is standing, one hand already raised and waving open the door. She cautiously steps inside the office, a nervous look on her face.

Not fear though, Vader calmly notices, no, she has not been afraid in his presence in awhile.

A small smile slips across his face as he steps forward to meet her.

_This is all a part of your assignmen_t, Vader mumbles to himself.

Now, even he can tell the lie is far from the truth.

**Ω ∞ •**

Padmé gingerly makes her way into Vader's office. She mentally prepares herself for what she might find (her last visit still hangs fresh in her mind), and she takes a few steps forward.

Luckily, this time, the man she wishes to see is not passed out on the floor. Padmé stops a few feet away from the entrance, and she watches as he steps around his desk to meet her.

This is a tactical move on her part. In the case that she might have to make a hasty escape.

Already, her heart is fluttering so badly that she is sure he can hear it from the other side of the room. Padmé clenches her hands in to fists to keep them from shaking, and she struggles to control her breathing.

_Steady breaths. . _.she reminds herself, _calm down! What's the worst thing that could happen. . .he says no?_

"What is it, Padmé? Is something wrong?"

Padmé's startled gaze snaps up to meet Vader's concerned expression. It takes her a moment to realize that she has been simply standing in silence, not at all addressing her presence in his office.

_Well, this is a great start,_ her mind helpfully mumbles.

"I - I have a problem."

The words tumble from her mouth, and there is a slight tremble in her tone.

Vader frowns at her statement, and the concerned look deepens. He gently reaches out, placing a hand gently on her arm. He turns her, and gingerly leads her towards one of the couches.

It is only when they are seated that he turns and faces her. His reply to her statement is a simple, one worded response.

"Explain."

And so, after a moment's pause, Padmé does.

She explains how Terric caught her outside of her office, how he had asked her to the dance. The words tumble from her mouth, like a story begging to be told.

Padmé only pauses in her story when she gets to her reply to Terric's question. In her moment of hesitation, she glances towards her listening companion.

Vader's expression is a mask of his usual controlled indifference. To any normal onlooker, he would appear almost uncaring.

However, after spending so much time with the man, Padmé can see slight flickers of emotions hidden behind the mask. She sees traces of. . .anger.

"So. . .you are going with Terric to the dance?" Vader asks, his tone smooth except for a slight hint of stiffness.

Padmé blinks rapidly, and it takes her a moment to fully comprehend his words.

"Oh - oh no!" she exlaims, and she quickly shakes her head to express her point, "no. That's where my problem comes in."

Padmé watches as, in a flash, the anger disappears. Instead, interest is kindled in his gaze, and he wastes no time replying.

"What do you mean?" Vader asks evenly.

Padmé takes a deep breath, steeling herself for her next words.

"Well. . .I certainly didn't want to go with him," Padmé mutters, and a flash of amusement crosses Vader's face, "so. . .I had to make up a reason for my not accompanying him."

Vader waits patiently as she gathers her thoughts, as she launches back into her explanation once more.

"So. . .I told him. . .I told him I was already going with someone else."

The silence falls heavy in the air, and Padmé's words seem to echo ominously in the room.

Padmé watches as Vader turns the words over in his mind, as he tries to comprehend just what she is implying. She sees the clear dawning of understanding as he pieces together just why she came to his office.

"Then why did you come. . .oh."

His final word is soft, and a thoughtful expression crosses his face. Padmé can see the gears turning in his mind, and she wishes more than anything that she could have a glimpse at his thoughts.

Padmé clenches her fists in the fabric of her robe as she waits for him to speak. Her heart beats a steady rhythm in her chest, and she feels as though any moment it will pound right out of her chest.

Finally, just when Padmé is about to go insane from the wait, he speaks.

He turns to face her, an incredulous look crossing his features. A frown slips across his lips, and he slowly shakes his head.

Padmé can already feel her heart sinking, even as he speaks his next words.

"Well, you certainly cannot _ask me_," Vader mutters, "that. . .that just can't happen."

Padmé feels as though her insides have frozen, as though her lungs have momentarily forgotten how to breath.

"But. . ." she finds herself muttering. Her mind feels numb, her thoughts a broken flurry of emotion.

Vader raises a hand, waving away her words. He slowly shakes his head once more, and he sighs lightly.

Padmé prepares herself to run for the door. Perhaps she can make it. . .it is only a few paces away. . .

However, before she can enact this plan, Vader turns to face her once more. Padmé braces herself for whatever is to come. She steels herself for the harsh words she is sure to receive. . .

Instead, she feels a flurry of surprise, a flicker of disbelief.

"What?" she mutters, confusion filling her, mingling with the rush of joy. She tries to control this sudden optimism, as she is sure she misheard him. . .

But, when Vader repeats his question, Padmé finds that she did not simply imagine the statement. It was not simply a figment of her imagination, brought on by her sudden heart break.

"Padmé Amidala. . .will you accompany me to the ball?" Vader asks. He frowns lightly as he repeats himself, as though concerned for her reaction to his words.

In a single moment his concern switches from worry to surprise as Padmé leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck.

Even as the startling realization of what she is doing occurs to her. . .Padmé finds herself relaxing against him. Slowly, the longer she keeps her arms wrapped around his neck, his arms come up to encircle her as well.

Padmé feels a rush of comfort as she buries her face into his chest. The feeling can only be described as a warm day. The sun shining, a gently breeze on the wind. . .

Perfect.

However, Padmé must end the moment of wonderful peace. There is one very important fact she must address.

She draws back slightly, still keeping her hands on his shoulders, and she faces him. A frown crosses her face.

"Why would you scare me like that?" she exclaims, a trace of annoyance creeping into her tone.

Vader smiles lightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face as he replies.

"I apologize," he says evenly, and he shrugs lightly before continuing, "but. . .as I stated earlier, you _cannot_ ask me. I find it better suiting for me to invite you."

Padmé finds herself split with both the overwhelming desire to roll her eyes at his words. . .and fall back into his embrace.

However, before she can do either, he continues.

"Speaking of which. . .I don't believe you've given me a reply. . ." he says softly, his voice slowly trailing off. His tone is musing, and his eyes dance lightly as he awaits the answer he already knows he will receive.

"Yes!" Padmé says quickly, a smile flickering across her face, "yes, of course!"

Vader actually smiles at her swift reply. This is the first true smile Padmé has ever seen from him, as it is not simply a passing smirk or turning up at the corners of his mouth.

While she had always thought him attractive before. . .now Padmé feels a glimmer of warmth in her heart, a fire in her chest.

Padmé wishes that she could catch the moment, just his smile, forever.

"Well," Vader says softly, the smile still gracing his features, "I already await the day."

Padmé couldn't agree with him more.

**• ∞ ****Ω ∞ •**

Vader carefully kneels before the flickering hologram of his master. It is with great caution that the younger Sith conceals his emotions, the traces of joy that still linger from her presence. . .

Quite clearly, he can still imagine her slight form in his arms. Her soft gaze, the sweet smell that always seemed to follow her. . .

Vader locks all of this away, and he pushes it to the back of his mind. If his master were to ever since such things from him. . .

Vader shudders at the thought.

It is with carefully edited precision that Vader describes the events that had transpired only a few hours previously.

To be exact, he cuts out most of their conversation - leaving only the barest of details behind.

When Vader is finished speaking, he waits patiently for his master's reply. Sidious is silent for several moments, contemplating his apprentice's words. . .

"Good, you are gaining her trust. . .at this rate, perhaps we will not be forced to interrogate her for information. . ." Sidious hisses lightly, "however, should this attempt prove further failure, we will be forced to take more. . .drastic measures."

Vader feels himself stiffen slightly at just the mention of such things, and he struggles to contain the flash of anger he feels.

"What. . .what do you mean, master?" Vader asks. He carefully leeches any traces of emotion from his tone.

Sidious appraises his young apprentice for several long moments. It is only after a lengthy pause has passed that he speaks, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

"Vader. . .I haven't told you of the latest reports. . .have I?" Sidious hisses lightly, a flicker of grim amusement working its way through his tone.

Already, Vader dreads whatever his master is about to say. He learned long ago that Sidious used words as his primary power.

For words have the power to build, to create. . .to destroy, to burn. . .

"Our intel suggests that the Rebel Alliance has been. . .attempting to contact the young senator," Sidious says lightly, a false note of sadness flickering in his tone, "I'm afraid. . .that the girl's loyalties may be more blurred than we originally thought. . ."

Initially, Vader feels a flash of denial. With it comes a flicker of rage, of anger. . .that is somewhat tempered by the disbelief he feels.

It is with vague indifference that Vader listens to the remainder of his master's instructions. It is only when Sidious' flickering blue image has disappeared that he allows himself to truly sink into his thoughts.

He had never even considered the possibility. . .

_Is it possible she has been gathering information from me the entire time?_

Vader trails his way through his memories. He searches for any sign of suspicious behavior. . .any trace of mixed loyalties. . .

And he finds nothing.

Of course, it could just be his own emotions, his own feelings blinding him.

That is what his master would say.

However, Vader is not his master.

For one thing. . .Sidious has lied to him before. His master has shown himself quite capable of twisting even the smallest grain of half-truth to his advantage.

It is quite possible. . .that this could all be just another one of schemes.

Or, it could be true.

Vader is left confused over the entire ordeal. He wishes that he could turn back the clock to only a few hours earlier, when all he could think of was the warmth in her gaze.

_I suppose I will find out all soon enough,_ he tells himself lightly, just so he can try and push the thoughts away.

_At the ball. . .I will discover the truth._

**• ∞ ****Ω ∞ •**

**Of course, Sidious has to go and ruin any progress in the relationship. . .sigh.**

**Please Review! The next chapter will be the ball. . .I can't wait!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Warning : Cliffhanger**

**Yay, long chapter! This is definitely. . . my favorite chapter for the entire story.**

**Enjoy!**

*** ˚ • ∆ • ˚ ***

Padmé stares at her reflection in the mirror. She gently smooths away a minuscule wrinkle at the edge of her dress.

_He'll be here any minute now. _. .she thinks to herself.

As she waits, she takes a moment to gaze upon her dress.

It is, by far, one of the most beautiful creations she has seen. It is simple, and cut of a fabric so dark in blue it shines in the light. Even the slightest of movements set the cloth dancing, the effect like oil on water.

Padmé clutches her mask tightly in her hand. The piece is a small swath of fabric, made to conceal only the area around ones eyes. The silvery cloth contrasts nicely with her dress, making the whole attire rather elegant in appearance.

_Why must they make it a masquerade_? Padmé thinks to herself, her tone almost sour. In her own opinion, the dance itself is bad enough. . .to add more ridiculous details to the whole affair. . .

Padmé's thoughts are interrupted by a familiar chime. In an instant she is tense, butterflies fluttering nervously in her stomach.

She forces herself towards the door, and she gently steels herself before entering the code to open it.

The door opens. . .and Padmé is faced with her date.

For a long moment they simply stand, staring at each other. It is Vader who first finds the will to speak.

"You. . .you look beautiful," he says evenly, a small smile appearing as he speaks. His words call a light blush to Padmé's cheeks, and she ducks her head slightly as she replies.

"You look quite handsome yourself," Padmé says softly in reply.

Indeed, he does.

Of course, he had chosen to stick with his usual dark attire. The fabric of his clothes so black it appears almost to be cut from the shadows itself.

Padmé has to force herself to look away from his eyes, from the mesmerizing pools of blue. Instead, she lets a smile slide across her face as she takes his outstretched arm.

"Are you ready to attend this horrible event, milady?" Vader asks solemnly, a slight hint of amusement tinging his tone.

Padmé tilts her head up slightly, and she feigns a dramatic sigh.

"Oh, if we must," she says dryly, "though I do warn you - you might have to keep me from running away."

Padmé can see the laughter in Vader's eyes, and she can hear it in his grim sounding reply.

"I hope my company will not be so terrible for you," Vader says with a sigh. Padmé quickly shakes her head, and a smile breaks through her facade.

"Quite the contrary," Padmé says with a grin, "it is all that will keep me sane this night."

* ˚ • ∆ • ˚ *

Through the doors ahead, Padmé can hear the dull roar of chatter. Soft notes of some waltz waft through the air, and the tempo beats a steady rhythm in Padmé's heart.

Just before stepping into the room, Padmé pauses to slip on her mask. Vader copies her motion, and he slips on his own mask.

His is made of black cloth, and though it covers only the skin around his eyes he could easily be mistaken for any random man in the room.

Hidden in the shadows of the mask, his blue eyes shine. A smirk twists at his lips as he offers his arm to Padmé once more.

"I hardly recognize you," he murmurs, and he nods at her own silvery mask, "now, are you ready to brave the crowds?"

Padmé slips her arm through his, and she offers him a smirk of her own.

"Only if you remain by my side," she says evenly.

With that, they enter the wild chaos within.

Padmé finds herself swept up in the swirling crowds, the constricting flow of bodies pressing against her own. If it weren't for Vader's hand on her arm, she would be pulled away in an instant.

Vader slides easily between the masses, and he gently pulls her along with him, until they finally break free of the flow.

"What an adventure," Vader says dryly as they slide away from the crowd of chattering senators and representatives. Padmé can only nod in agreement as she is led further from the swarming mass.

She is just about to speak, when a new sound catches her ear.

Padmé gasps, and she drags Vader to a stop. He sends her an odd look, and she wastes no time in explaining.

"I love this song," she says quickly, "we used to dance to it in festivals at home. . ."

She trails off quickly, bittersweet memories flooding her mind. Vader appraises her lightly for a long moment, before smiling lightly.

He draws back slightly, and he holds one hand out expectantly.

"May I have this dance?" he asks evenly.

Padmé feels a smile flooding her, and a warmth flutters lightly in her heart. She sketches a light curtsey, before taking his outstretched hand in his own.

"I would be honored," Padmé says softly.

She follows Vader to the dance floor. This area of the room, while not as crowded as the mass near the entrance, is still flush with masked figures, swaying in time to the music.

However, as Padmé lays her hands on her partner's shoulders, as he places his hands on her waist. . .somehow she is able to distance herself from the chaos and crowds around her.

She loses herself in the rhythm of the music. The notes spin around her, and it is almost as though she and her partner are in their own little world.

And. . .it is perfect.

Vaguely, Padmé is surprised to find that Vader is quite good at dancing. He doesn't falter in his steps as he guides her around the floor, as he spins her lightly.

Song after song passes. Neither of them speaks. They are instead caught up in the whirl of emotions, the beauty of the moment.

Padmé, if only for a moment, is almost able to forget their pasts. . .where each of them come from. . .she is almost able to imagine that. . .

It is only when she feels that she will collapse if she takes another step that she begs leave of the dance floor.

Even then, she only wishes that she could stay.

With some assistance from her partner, she limps towards the side of the room.

_I will regret wearing these shoes for the next week_, Padmé thinks to herself. She winces as she takes another step.

Vader leads her away from the crowds, towards the doors leading outside. In moments, they have left the stuffy chamber behind, and have stepped outside into the fresh night air.

Vader guides her towards the balcony's edge, where several benches are set. Padmé gratefully takes a seat, and she sighs in relief as feeling slowly flood back into her feet.

"I'll be right back," Vader mutters, before he disappears back inside. He is gone for only a moment, before he reappears once more. Two glasses are held in his hands, the champagne inside glowing in the soft light the ballroom casts.

Padmé gratefully takes her glass, and she eagerly takes a sip to soother her parched throat. Vader takes a seat beside her on the bench, and he too tastes his drink.

A long moment passes before Vader speaks.

"If I am to be honest. . ." he says slowly, "this night has not been half bad."

Padmé smiles at his words. She takes another sip from her drink, and she relishes in the bubbly taste it leaves behind.

"I agree," she says with a smile.

Almost unconsciously, Padmé finds herself sliding closer to Vader. Her shoulder brushes against his accidentally.

However, when she tries to shy away - a blush already forming, he stops her. His arm slides easily around her shoulders, drawing her to his side.

Padmé tenses for a moment, before relaxing slightly. Her head falls to rest on his shoulder, and she sighs lightly at the sudden rush of comfort that fills her.

Slowly, her eyes trail the sparkling lights before them, the glittering flows of traffic. The scene is so beautiful, so serene. . .

Padmé finds herself turning to face Vader, a statement about the scene on her lips. . .

However, in a moment, she freezes. In an instant the words die on her tongue.

All she can see is his eyes. In their depths is an unreadable emotion, a thing that speaks of desire, of a deep want.

Padmé shivers lightly, even as she finds herself leaning forward.

Time slows, the seconds crawl. All Padmé can see is the space between them, the small amount of space that is rapidly closing. . .

"Padmé?"

Padmé and Vader spring apart. Confusion and annoyance flutter on both of their faces, even as they turn to face the speaker.

Padmé stiffens as she realizes who it is.

"Padmé. . .is that you?" Terric slurs lightly. His unfocused gaze struggles to take in the scene of her, of her partner. His own mask hangs sloppily around his neck.

In turn, Padmé takes in the glass in his hand, probably the first of many. Her eyes slowly trail to the woman beside him, a blonde girl who is wearing a swath of black fabric that could barely be considered a dress.

_How_? Padmé's mind practically screams, _how could you find me in this mess? How. . .how could you possibly recognize me?_

Suddenly, at the top of Padmé's list of regrets for the night, is her decision not to wear a more concealing mask.

_Why. . .why. . .why. . ._

"Who. . .who are you?" Terric slurs, and he vaguely points in Vader's direction. A confused look crosses the drunken senator's face as he struggles to piece together why the man is sitting beside Padmé.

Though Padmé is currently struggling to contain her own desire to strangle Terric, she knows she currently has much greater problems to deal with.

Like her companion. . .who is quite capable _and _willing of strangling Terric.

Padmé can practically feel Vader's fury, she can taste the rising danger that grows with every moment Terric lingers here.

She gently lays a hand on Vader's arm, before turning to speak to their surprise visitors.

"Terric, I think you should leave," Padmé says slowly. She forces as much sharpness into her tone as she can muster, which is actually a fair amount considering her current annoyance.

Terric's companion nods in agreement of Padmé's words, and she tugs lightly on the senator's arm. It appears as though, she at least, sees the growing danger of the situation.

Terric tries to resist her pull, but in his current state he is unable to resist even the slightest forces.

Padmé only relaxes when he has disappeared back into the swirling chaos of the ballroom. She sighs lightly, before pushing herself to her feet and walking to the rail of the balcony. She leans against the cool stone, and she struggles to shove down her annoyance.

_Why can I not have one moment. ._ .Padmé thinks to herself. Her annoyance only comes back with full force as she remembers what almost happened, what Terric interrupted. . .

In a flash, however, Padmé's annoyance is replaced with embarrassment as she realizes what almost happened. A faint flush fills her cheeks as the memory floods her mind.

_He. . .he was going to kiss me. . ._

The thought sends a flurry of emotions through her. A warmth alights within her heart, and she can feel the blood rushing in her head.

_Don't act so surprised,_ Padmé tells herself evenly, _you know you wanted him to. . .that you've wanted him to for quite a while. . ._

Padmé's thoughts freeze when a familiar presence comes to stand beside her. She hurriedly tries to push her thoughts, her memories, from her mind - as though that will somehow take away the flush that is coating her cheeks.

Vader sighs lightly beside her, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Padmé. . .you really should have let me kill him," Vader says dryly.

Even though there should be nothing about that statement, about the blatant address of murder. . .Padmé laughs.

"Oh, I almost did," Padmé says slowly, "I truly did consider strangling him myself. . .but I feel that would have spoiled our little night. I'm sure things would get quite messy very quickly."

Vader smiles lightly at that, and a soft chuckle escapes him.

A soft silence falls, and it stretches between them.

Both are thinking of the same thing. . .the same thought twists through their minds. . .

Of course, Padmé is the first to address it. The words spill from her mouth before she can stop them, and she curses herself for her loose tongue.

"So. . .before," she says slowly, "were you going to kiss me?"

Padmé is unable to take back the statement. She finds herself waiting, hoping for any kind of answer. . .

Vader does not seem all too surprised by her question. In fact, he seems almost amused.

"I was," he says simply in reply, a light smile twisting at his lips, "did you have any objections?"

Padmé blinks at his answer, and once more her response slips out before she can stop herself.

"No."

A quick, rushed reply, spoken with almost eagerness.

Her words hang heavy in the air. It is almost as though they cast some sort of spell, one that causes the hurricane of emotion that appears in an instant.

Slowly, Vader steps towards her.

Once more, time slows down.

Padmé's arms gently twine around his neck, and his hands catch her waist, pulling her closer.

Just like the dance.

Padmé finds herself leaning forward, the space between them shrinking with every passing second.

It is a flashback, a replica of the moment only minutes before. . .except for this time. . .there is no interruption.

And it is perfect.

* ˚ • ∆ • ˚ *

Terric slowly stumbles through the crowd, his companion guiding him through the masses.

The woman, named. . .Shela. . .or Monri. . .something, is quite pretty. Very pretty indeed, especially considering the amount he had to pay to have her tonight.

However, she is not Padmé.

No, that. . .man. He has the privilege of being at Padmé's side.

Terric saw them on the balcony. Even with the drink clouding his mind. . .he knows what he saw.

Anger flushes him, it mingles in with the clouds of confusion left by the drink. The room spins around him, making his thoughts a flurried mess.

"Terric?"

The voice breaks his clouded thoughts just as he is nearing the exit. The voice sounds vaguely familiar. . .

Terric spins around to face the speaker, and he narrows his eyes as he takes in the masked face. As if realizing his confusion, the man slips off his mask.

In an instant, Terric is thrown back. . .

_Even with her face concealed under a mask, Terric knew it was her. . .he would know her anywhere, no matter where she was. . ._

"Terric?"

The voice comes again, and this time when Terric turns he is able to recognize the now visible face.

"Bail," Terric slurs, he blinks lightly to clear up the double image of the Alderaanian senator floating before him, "what a. . . pleasure. . ."

Bail frowns lightly at the slurring man, and he hesitates before speaking. His eyes glance towards Terric's companion for a moment, and confusion fills his gaze.

"Terric. . . who is this?" Bail asks evenly, "I was under the impression that you would be escorting Padmé tonight."

Terric tosses his head back lightly, and a laugh escapes him.

"Padmé. . ." he says slowly. Bail frowns at him, and he instead turns to Terric's companion.

Terric can see Bail's mouth moving, and the blonde shaking her head in disgust. However, Terric cannot hear their words over the ringing in his ears.

Monri. . .no. . .Shela points towards the direction they just came from, towards the balcony where Padmé and her. . .friend were sitting.

However, Terric finds he no longer cares. Everything is far too funny. . .far too amusing.

He laughs as he watches Bail thread his way through the crowd.

Everything is far. . .too. . funny.

* ˚ • ∆ • ˚ *

Vader had always been taught that the light was bad.

That emotion, caring, compassion. . .those were weakness.

How quickly, in a single moment. . .all of that could be proven wrong.

In his arms, Vader holds the purest piece of light he has ever seen. She is the furthest thing from a weakness, if anything - she is a strength.

Vader gently leans forward, and he kisses her again.

The moment is perfect, it is amazing. It is light. . .

But, if Vader does know anything. . .it is how quickly darkness can fall.

And so, really, he shouldn't be surprised when the darkness does come. When, in a single moment, it washes away the light.

"Pa. . .Padmé?" a stuttering voice breaks through his thoughts.

A voice he recognizes in an instant.

Both Padmé and Vader turn to face the man in an instant. Instinctively, Vader's arm tightens around Padmé's waist.

Nothing will take away his light.

Vader feels a deep fury grow within him as he takes in the speaker's shocked form.

He also, for the first time in so, so long. . .feels a trace of fear.

Bail Organa stares at both of them. It is obvious that he is struggling to find words, to piece together the situation before him

It is obvious that he recognizes them. . .both.

"Padmé. . .Vader?" he asks slowly. Gradually, realization forms.

And so the darkness falls.

*** ˚ • ∆ • ˚ ***

**Sorry. . .**

**Please Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, little note for before. . .this chapter is, in one word, Painful.**

**(I'm sorry.)**

**Enjoy!**

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(Previously. . .)_

_Bail Organa stares at both of them. It is obvious that he is struggling to find words, to piece together the situation before him._

_It is obvious that he recognizes them. . .both._

_"Padmé. . .Vader?" he asks slowly. Gradually, realization forms._

_And so the darkness falls._

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

Padmé stiffens lightly. She is frozen, her heart fluttering within her.

_What do I do. . .what do I say? _her mind practically screams.

Bail speaks again before she has even has time to answer her own questions.

Quickly, oh so very quickly. . .his surprise does fade. It is replaced with a faint glimmer of something darker, a trace of betrayal overshadowed by a feeling of mistrust.

Of pain.

"Padmé. . .what are you doing. . .with him?" Bail asks. The Alderaanian senator swallows lightly, and a mildly sick feeling crosses his face.

It is obvious that he has his own suspicions, but it is just as clear that he is still clinging to a sliver of hope.

A wish that his own thoughts might be wrong. . .that everything is not as it seems.

Padmé finds herself unable to answer, to even speak. Her words have left her, and a cold numbness has been left behind.

Any warmth that lingered from her kiss moments before has long been vanquished by the ice that is working its way through her veins.

Vader, however, seems quite capable of speech. His arm is looped protectively around Padmé's waist, and he steps forward slightly as if to shield her.

Padmé can't help but feel. . .comforted.

Safe.

"The Senator is _accompanying_ me," Vader snaps, his voice holding a clear dangerous note.

Bail blinks lightly at this. His eyes slowly trail from Vader, to fall on Padmé. He stares into her eyes, and he searches to see if this claim is false. . .or if. . .

Padmé stares evenly back. She makes no move to hide her own feelings, her own willingness to stand near the man at her side.

As he comes to this realization, this understanding. . .it is almost as though a weight has been dropped upon Bail's shoulders. The man ages a decade in a flash, and a sudden weariness settles upon him.

"I. . .I see," Bail says, his voice weak. The man clears his throat lightly, and his eyes slowly flutter closed before he continues.

"Yes. . .I do believe I do."

Bail is turning his back from them, he is making his way back towards the ballroom. It is quite obvious that he is ready to put as much distance between himself and her as possible.

Padmé's legs move of their own accord. They pull her forward, away from the aura of protection Vader projects.

When Vader does try to follow her, she raises one hand in a gesture of pause.

"I'll be right back," she mutters, before hurrying after her friend.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

Vader contemplates listening to Padmé, he considers obeying her wishes. . .for a full half second.

There is no way that he is leaving her alone with Organa. . .

Though the man claims to care for Padmé, though they do appear close. . .Vader is not running any risks.

Vader absently rips the silly mask from his face, and he draws his robes tighter around him.

He silently follows Padmé and Organa. He wraps the force around him, using its power to cloak his presence. To any onlooker he is just another shadow cast in the dim lighting of the room.

Vader trails after the pair. When they finally do stop, a conversation does ensure.

And. . .Vader finds that he does not like where it leads.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

Padmé turns away, and rushes after Bail. Already he has almost reached the masses of people, and in a single moment he will disappear into the crowds.

Padmé only just manages to catch him. She grabs the arm of his shirt, and she forcefully drags him away from the main floor. Bail offers little in the way of resistance, and Padmé only stops when they have reached the corner of the room.

The alcove is far quieter, and offers much more privacy than any other place in their surrounding area.

The moment they stop, Padmé fires off her first statement. Her fist apology.

"Bail, I'm so sorry. . .I should have told you. . .I should have - ," she begins.

Bail cuts her off before she can continue, before she can get another word out.

"You should have what?" Bail snaps, a hint of anger creeping into his tone, "told me that your lover was the Emperor's second in command? The slaughterer of millions. . .a supporter of everything wrong with the galaxy today?

Padmé blinks lightly, shock flickering across her features.

"He's. . .he's not my _lover,_" Padmé says shakily, "and I - ."

Once more Bail cuts her off before she can continue. He waves his hand lightly, and he laughs bitterly.

"At least now I know why you were so reluctant to attend those meetings!" he exclaims, "you were afraid he would think less of you, that he would leave you?"

He laughs bitterly again, before a new realization dawns. A harsh look overtakes his features, and he practically snarls his next words.

"Or, was that all an act? A trick to gain our trust?" he snaps, "did he put you up to it? What did he promise you. . .power? Money? What was your price?"

Though Padmé knows her friends words are spoken purely in anger. Though she knows that, in a way, his reaction is justified. . .

That doesn't stop the pain. The ache that forms in her heart.

"Bail," she murmurs, her voice but a whisper, "do you. . .do you really think I would do that?"

Bail stares at her, a look of mixed disbelief and betrayal twisting his features.

"I don't know," he says softly, "the Padmé I know. . .I would never see her in the arms of the _enemy._"

Padmé feels dazed. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, they threaten to rush down her face.

How could a night so wonderful. . .turn to darkness so fast?

"He is not my enemy."

The words slip from her tongue. They sting as they leave her mouth, and yet. . .they are the truth.

Bail reacts to these words as one would a slap, a physical blow. His eyes widen lightly, and he slowly shakes his head.

Some of his anger fades, and traces of concern appear. Quickly, he appears almost worried for his friend.

"Padmé. . .how well do you know him?" Bail asks slowly, he chooses his words carefully, "how do you know. . .this isn't all an act?"

Padmé feels as if she has been punched in the stomach. There is a slight gasping of air, a searching for words. . .before she replies.

"I don't."

With that, every trace of anger fades from Bail's face. He steps forward, and he lays a comforting hand on Padmé's arm.

"Padmé, haven't you all considered. . .that it all may be a lie?" Bail says softly, "that he is simply playing you for information?"

The young woman tries to reply with a sharp 'No.' Padmé wishes with all her might that she could respond confidently that Vader would never do that. That he truly cared for her. . .

But, everything about him, from his infamous reputation to his often times vague actions. . .says otherwise.

"That. . .that can't be true. . ." Padmé whispers, her trembling words nearly lost in the roar of the room.

Her voice lacks any true conviction, any real belief that her words are true.

Bail nods lightly. It is quite apparent that her unspoken words ring much louder than her soft denial.

"Padmé, you must push him away. You must turn away from him before it is too late," Bail mutters, a frown flickering across his face.

Padmé slowly shakes her head.

Her heart is plummeting a thousand miles a minute. The numbness, the cold ache, is slowly spreading. Ice fills her stomach, and a pounding rushes through her head.

"It's too late," she murmurs, so softly that Bail hardly catches her words.

"What?" Bail asks, and confusion crosses his face, "what do you mean? Has he. . .is he threatening you? Has he hurt you?"

Padmé slowly shakes her head. A dazed look crosses her face. Even as she comes to the realization herself. . .she speaks it aloud.

"I love him."

Though Padmé's words are barely above a whisper, though they are lost in the haze of the ballroom, it is obvious that Bail hears her.

The disbelief reflected across his face is perfect evidence of this.

Quickly though, his shock fades. Denial slips into place, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Padmé, you should come with me. We can get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can clear your head," Bail says, his voice shaky, "we can get you help - ."

A new voice cuts in before Bail can finish. This new voice trembles with rage, and something. . .else. An unreadable emotion, one that sounds almost like. . .

Fear.

"She isn't going anywhere," Vader snaps as he steps out of the shadows.

* _• ˚ ∆ ˚ • *_

_(only a few moments earlier. . .)_

Vader listens to their conversation with growing rage, with burning fury.

It is taking every ounce of his self control, of his own will, to keep himself from barging in. . .from strangling that worthless senator from Alderaan.

His anger is burning so brightly. . .he almost misses Padmé's declaration.

It is only the look of absolute shock reflected on Bail's face that proves that Vader _did_ in fact hear her words correctly.

_I love him._

An indescribable emotion flares inside him her words. It is a feeling so powerful that, if only for a moment, it pushes the rage away.

But, the rage returns full force when Bail speaks again.

_"__Padmé, you should come with me. We can get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can clear your head," the senator says shakily, "we can get you help - ."_

It is then that Vader's self control breaks. He steps forward, darkness spinning madly, and he snarls at the Alderaanian senator.

_"__She isn't going anywhere."_

Padmé starts lightly at his sudden appearance, though a flicker of relief flashes inside her.

A flicker of relief that is largely overshadowed. . .by fear.

In a moment, Vader feels nauseous. The thought of Padmé being afraid of him. . .

He shivers lightly. It is as though a chill has taken the air. The temperature in the room drops several degrees.

Organa seems surprised by Vader's appearance as well, and his own traces of fear can be easily felt.

Quickly though, this fades. A dark feeling rises within the man, and Vader. . .

Vader dreads what is to come.

"Ask him, Padmé," Bail says smoothly. His tone is even, devoid of emotion. He levels this cool stare on Padmé, and he lays a hand gently on her shoulder.

Vader would like nothing more than to step forward, and rip off the hand Organa dares to lay on her. . .but at the moment he is frozen.

For he remembers_ quite clearly_ what they were discussing only moments before. What they were speaking of just a few minutes ago. . .

It is clear that Padmé remembers this too. She obviously understands what Bail means, what he is urging her to ask. . .

Padmé draws in a long breath, before she turns to face Vader. When she speaks, her voice trembles lightly. Everything about her speaks of fragility, of glass that could be broken, shattered at the slightest touch.

"Was it all a lie?" she whispers.

Vader wants nothing more than to deny her statement. He wishes that he could erase every lie he ever told, that they could just put this whole event behind him. . .

He almost does just that.

The words are ready to slip out of his mouth, the words that will put her mind to rest. The words that will assure her that it was in fact real, that he had no ulterior motives. . .

But something stops him.

Maybe it is her eyes, the only real feature of her face that he can see. Her soft brown eyes, brimming with unshed tears, shine out from the clothe of her mask.

They beg for the truth, not just some lie that will ease her spirit.

So. . .Vader remains silent.

A long moment passes, and when it becomes evident that he does not plan to speak, to deny her statement. . .

Padmé gasps.

A sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob escapes her.

For a long, infinitely long statement, Padmé stares up at him. Long enough that he can read the hurt, the pain, clearly in her eyes. Long enough that the image will be forever imprinted in his mind.

Then she is gone.

In two swift steps she had disappeared into the crowd. The swirling mass of bodies hides her, the crowd of masked figures hides her better than any disguise of her own ever could.

Vader tries to follow her, to catch her before she truly disappears without a trace.

A hand on his arm stops him. It grabs his shoulder firmly, and it hold him in place.

"Have you not already hut her enough?" Bail hisses, his own fury quite clear.

But, of course, his rage is nothing compared to Vader's.

In an instant, Vader has the senator pinned against the wall, one hand held firmly at his throat.

Bail gasps lightly, and he claws uselessly at his neck. A gurgling noise ensues as the man struggles to draw in breaths.

Vader's rage swirls around him. It lies heavy in the air, and the darkness only fans the burning flames.

How he would like nothing more than to kill the man. . .the cause of this pain. . .this horrible ache within himself. . .

But, something stops him.

It is a flickering image, one that multiplies the pain he feels a hundredfold.

_A pair of brown eyes, fresh with pain. . .with fear. . . _

It is with a gasp that Vader releases Bail. He hastily steps back, and a hand flies to his heart.

As if that will somehow ease the ache within him, the pain that is growing with each passing second.

A hurricane of emotions flickers across Vader's face. The most evident one, the one that rises to the surface. . .

Is the pain. The raw suffering.

* _• ˚ ∆ ˚ • *_

Slowly, and unseen by Vader, Bail slowly rises from the ground.

The man rubs lightly at his throat, and a flicker of anger crosses his face. . .before his eyes fall on Vader.

A flicker of shock lights within Bail, and the feeling easily mirrors his own disbelief.

On Vader's face is an expression that can only be described. . . as loss. Pain of the purest kind.

An emotion that reflects deep regret, a well of suffering.

In a moment, the Sith Lord before him is transformer. The image of the intimidating, dark soldier slowly fades. . .and in its place. . .

Is a broken man.

"You. . .you care for her," Bail stutters. Though his words contain quite a measure of disbelief, any trace of his doubt is washed away by Vader's next actions.

Vader simply walks away.

He appears to almost be in a daze, a stupor of sorts.

It is almost as though he hasn't heard Bail's words, that he isn't even aware of his own surroundings.

Vader slowly makes his way forward, towards the exit. The masses part before him, scrambling to get out of the way of the now unmasked, recognizable dark lord.

But Vader. . .doesn't seem to care.

For his light has left him.

And only the darkness remains.

* • ˚ ∆ ˚ • *

**Yeah. . . sorry! Like I said - Painful.**

**Don't worry. . .thinks will get better. . . hopefully.**

**Please Review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay, beforehand : I'm sorry! I know at this point, pretty much everyone has expressed their extreme hatred & annoyance at basically any character that isn't Padmé or Vader . . .( & a lot of you are probably angry at Vader right now!)**

**But, the interaction between these characters is key to the story. Don't worry, there will be some Padmé & Vader too. . .**

**Enjoy!**

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(Mon Mothma's Apartments, Alliance Meeting)_

Bail stares outside the window. Around him, the idle chatter of the other Alliance members conversations echo. The morning's meeting has just adjourned, and now everyone is exchanging simple pleasantries.

However, Bail is far too lost in his own thoughts to focus on what anyone else is saying.

Bail wishes that he could forget what he saw. He wishes that the small flicker of emotion. . .was just a figment of his imagination.

Though, however he might try to will the image away, it still remains. Bail might try to write it off as untrue, but deep down he could see the truth clearly.

Darth Vader. . .cared.

For Padmé.

The notion in and of itself is simply so. . .impossible. So positive absurd. . .and yet. . .

It is true.

"Bail? What's bothering you?"

The soft voice, one tinged with concern, draws the Alderaanian senator from his thoughts. Bail looks up to find Mon staring at her, and worry lacing her features.

"It's nothing," Bail mutters, though he even he can hear how unconvincing his tone is.

"Is it. . .about Padmé?" Mon asks evenly.

Bail wonders briefly how she figured out the truth so quickly. Is he truly that easy to read?

But, a moment later, as though sensing his confusion, she answers his question.

"You haven't been the same since you went searching for her at the ball," Mon replies, "and, as I'm going to take your expression now as a yes. . .what is wrong? Did something happen to her?"

Bail hesitates for a moment before answering. There is a brief conflict in his mind, in which he wonders whether or not to tell his old friend the truth. . .there is a brief sour feeling in his gut, as if in mild warning. . .

An instant later though, Bail scolds himself. Why would he not be able to trust Mon with the truth?

"I. . .I saw who she was accompanying to the ball," Bail says evenly. He pitches his voice low, so as not to be overheard by the other Alliance members gathered in the room.

Mon frowns at this, and confusion flits across her face.

"Ah, well. . .who was it? Someone I know?" she asks cautiously. She sees no reason why this should trouble her friend. . .

Bail laughs bitterly at her words. His grim amusement only worries his friend more.

"Oh, trust me," Bail says evenly, "it's someone we all know. . ."

Mon leans forward at this, and her frown deepens. She waits patiently for Bail to continue. There is a long pause, almost as though the air itself is holding its breath. . .and then he speaks. Just one, simple word.

"Vader."

Mon's eyes widen, and disbelief flits across her face.

"I'm sorry. . .what?" Mon asks, her voice snapping lightly. Bail levels her with an even look.

"You heard me," he says quietly in reply. Mon blinks slowly, and silence falls as she slowly connects the pieces.

"She. . .she was giving him information - ," Mon begins, her voice raising along with her growing anger. However, before she can get further, or draw the attention of any of their fellow alliance members, Bail interrupts.

"She was not passing him information," Bail says quickly, "however, Vader was using her to gain intel."

Mon slowly shakes her head, a look of disgust touching her features.

"She was naive," Mon hisses, "there's no telling what she could have told him. . .how could she have been so stupid?"

Bail slowly shakes his head, and a sad look crosses his face.

"She was in love," Bail says softly. Mon gasps lightly at this, but Bail continues before she can speak, "and. . .if what I saw was true. . .Vader. . ."

Bail slowly trails off, leaving the end of his statement open. However, it takes little thought on Mon's part to figure out what her friend in implying.

"He cares for her too?" Mon exclaims, and her voice raises to an alarming pitch. It is only a sharp glare from Bail that warns her to soften her tone.

"He does," Bail says evenly in reply.

At Bail's affirmation, Mon falls silent. A contemplative look appears in her eye, a certain glint that speaks of hidden thoughts and motives.

It is obvious that the Chandrilan senator is planning something. . .though what exactly that is - Bail can only speculate.

And he finds that he doesn't like where those ideas take him.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(Padmé's Apartments)_

Padmé gingerly wraps her arms tighter around her knees, and she draws her legs closer to her chest.

_What a pathetic picture I am_, she thinks grimly to herself. She laughs bitterly, even as silent tears trace tracks down her cheeks.

Padmé knows that she should push her feelings away, that she should focus on her duties. . .there is an important meeting in the Senate today. . .

However, if she does go to the Senate. . .she knows exactly who she will find there.

That is why she called in sick today. She pled severe illness, and - seeing as she had never taken so much as a single vacation day in her life - not a single eyebrow had been raised.

She had composed herself only enough to send the brief holo transmission to Cinda explaining her trouble (and, truly, her pale complexion and red rimmed eyes did much in the way of conveying the image of illness).

However, the moment the flickering image of her secretary faded. . .she fell apart once more.

_How much can one cry?_ Padmé idly wonders, _the pain. . .will it ever go away?_

At the moment, she finds it hard to believe that the pain will ever fade, that the ache in her soul will ever disappear.

In between sobbing for what she lost. . .Padmé curses herself for believing in what she truly. . .never had.

_I was so stupid, so blind_, Padmé's mind shrieks, _was not his reputation not enough to warn me? Was I truly so naive to think that a murderer, a killer of millions. . .would not stoop to trickery and deceit?_

_This is what I get for being the romantic fool. . ._

Throughout the day, Padmé receivers several callers. Not once does she answer the door. She does not even check to see who her visitors are.

A few messages do come in, and Padmé wearily glances through them after checking to verify that they _do not _come from one soul in particular. . .

Bail leaves several messages, one of which firmly begs her to open the door. However, Padmé listens to his words with a deaf ear only. She blindly watches his flickering image, and he pays no heed to his words.

Throughout the day, however. . .there is one should in particular that she does not see. One man who leaves not a single message, and he certainly doesn't call. . .

And of course, due to Padmé's treacherous heart. . .

She can't decide whether she finds peace in this. . .or if, due to his absence. . .her pain only grows.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(Senate Building)_

Never before had Vader's emotions run so. . .rampart.

The only time he can think of that even comes close to this. . .is when his mother died. It was then that he first delved into the dark side of the force, that he first tasted true power.

Now though. . .power is the furthest thought from his mind.

Even as his hand clenches around the throat of the bumbling officer, even as the life does drain from the man. . .Vader does not think of power.

In only a few moments, the man is dead. Vader strides away from the body of the fallen soldier.

Truly, he doesn't even remember what led him to kill the man in the first place.

Though he is not the first officer to die at Vader's hand today.

A dark cloud hangs around the Sith lord as he strides through the halls of the Senate. Representatives and other members of the Senate hastily jump out of the way of the brooding figure.

Vader knew the moment he set foot in the building.

Her presence - or the lack thereof - hit him like a physical blow. Currently, it was taking every ounce of his own self control to keep himself from jumping in a speeder and racing to her apartment.

It is only the thought of her response to such actions. . .that keeps him away.

The image of her expression, broken and full of pain. . .echoes in his mind. It fuels the darkness, it fans the dark flames that are raging in his soul.

He has never hated himself more.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(A Few Hours Later, Outside Padmé's Apartments)_

Caaldra intently observes his target from his perch on the balcony.

It was a rather small matter to turn of the security surrounding the apartment.

Gently, the male bounty hunter fingers the syringe in his palm. The thin needle holds just enough sedative to knock out a woman of her size for a few hours.

He had carefully done the measurements earlier. Normally he wouldn't take such precautions, but this wasn't the average job.

For one, his employer had stressed that they wished the target to be brought in_ alive._

This request is not too odd, though it is certainly rare.

Secondly, was the method in which he was contacted.

A vague message, with only the targets name, the drop place, and the payment sum.

The price alone was enough to was away any of Caaldra's doubts about the assignment. With a job like this. . .he'd be set for awhile.

Caaldra waits on his perch, until night has fallen. When the apartment is awash in shadows - that is when he strikes.

The job goes by without any severe difficulties. Caaldra suffers a brief struggle with the woman, who - surprisingly - puts up quite the fight.

She manages to smash his hand with a vase before Caaldra catches her with the syringe. As she collapses, her conscious rapidly fading, he carefully pulls shards of glass from his hand.

The bounty hunter fixes the woman with a glare as he binds his now bleeding hand. Though he had no qualms in her capture beforehand, now he certainly finds quite the pleasure in selling her to his employer.

In a matter of minutes Caaldra has loaded her in the back of his speeder. This particular craft was made specifically for jobs like this, and is equipped with heavily tinted windows.

All too soon, the bounty hunter's speeder is just another one hovering through the endless lanes of traffic.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

_(One Hour Later, Padmé's Apartment)_

Vader hesitates for a moment, before lightly knocking once more on the door. Gingerly, he keeps an eye out for any of the Senator's security team. It had been easy work evading them on the way up, but he certainly doesn't wish to run in any of them.

A few long seconds pass, and only when it is quite clear that no one is coming does Vader sigh.

_Did you really expect her to answer? _Vader thinks grimly to himself.

He sighs lightly, and readies himself to leave. However, just before turning away, he allows his mind to do a gently sweep of the room. Half-heartedly, he searches for her presence. . .

In a moment, Vader freezes. He quickly does another scan of the apartments beyond the door. . .and he comes up with the same results.

Empty.

The next second, Vader waves his hand before the door. There is a dull_ click _that echoes through the empty hall, before the door slides open.

Vader sweeps into the apartments, his cloak billowing darkly behind him.

In a single instant. . .he knows something is wrong.

Something sour, a bitter taste hangs in the air. Vader feels the darkness roll within him as he strides further into the rooms.

He manages to hold onto some traces of hope. . .until he finds the broken glass.

It is quite obvious in the main living room that a struggle had transpired. Shards of glass litter the floor, and furniture is haphazardly shoved out of place.

Vader, with lethal precision, kneels on the ground. A sharp wave of his hand has some of the large pieces of what was once a vase floating in the air.

Clearly, shining on the sharp edges, are the dark stains of blood.

In a moment, a single second, darkness washes Vader's soul. It pounds a steady rhythm in his heart, and it quickly washes away the ache that had lingered within him throughout the day.

Because, now, Vader has a mission.

Someone took his light. And that person. . .oh how they will wish for death. An end to their suffering will be such a wonderful thing. For Vader. . .

_Is going to make them **pay**._

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

**So, things are about to get interesting.**

**Please Review! If you have any questions, if there is any confusion. . .just PM me!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Enjoy!**

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

Slowly, Padmé's mind draws her back to consciousness.

She is aware of a dull ache, a buzzing in her head. She struggles to remember what happened. . . where she is. . .

In a flash, it all comes back.

Padmé's eyes fly open, and she blinks wildly to wash away the black spots that form in her eyes. The lights, blinding in their intensity, burn her eyes.

Slowly, her vision clears. She is able to focus on her surroundings. . .

She is in a room. A small chamber, like a cell. The walls are dull gray durasteel, and the floor is cold beneath her. There is no sign of an exit, of a door of any kind.

_Where am I?_ Padmé thinks to herself, confusion filling her as she takes in the cell.

She pushes herself off of the ground, and she draws herself into a standing postion.

Instantly, she almost falls. A wave of dizziness touches her, and she sways lightly on her feet. The pounding headache, a result of whatever drug was used to sedate her, beats a steady, painful rhythm in the back of her skull.

Padmé is just wondering what she should do - what she_ can _do - when one of the wall panels slides back.

A hidden door, a small exit is revealed.

And, standing in this doorway. . .

Padmé gasps. In a single moment, a flurry of emotions floods her system. She takes a stumbling step back, even as the new figure strides forward.

A dark taste, a horrible emotions, tremors through her. It settles heavily in the pit of her stomach.

Betrayal.

Padmé presses herself against the wall, she tucks herself into the corner in an attempt to get as far away from this figure as possible.

A person who she had thought a colleague. . .a trusted friend. . .

"Padmé, resistance will get you nowhere," Mon Mothma mutters, a weary note touching her tone, "if you would be so kind as to cooperate. . ."

Padmé struggles to keep herself from hissing at the woman, from snarling every single curse she knows.

_Why is this happening?_ her mind screams.

But, of course, already her mind has it's guesses. . .

And she doesn't like what those thoughts say.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

Vader stands stiff, his hands clenched at his sides, as he awaits for the results to show.

The piece of glass he had found in Padmé's apartment is currently being run through the Imperial data banks.

The blood that was splattered across the shard is currently being tested for a match.

A shrill beep alerts the Sith lord that the process is complete, that a match has been found. The screen flickers lightly, before a file appears on screen.

_Caaldra._

A bounty hunter.

Vader's eyes narrow as he reads the slim amount of information listed on the man.

_Human. Average in appearance. Capable fighter._

All in all, not the highest profile bounty hunter. While it appears that this Caaldra is capable at his work, he is not the greatest at what he does.

Of course, this will only make Vader's job_ so much easier._

Vader stares at the picture of the man. While the holo feed is somewhat grainy, he can make out enough of the man's features.

_Average build and appearance. Bland face._

Vader memorizes this appearance, he burns the image into his mind. And then. . . Vader makes plans.

Plans to catch this man. Plans to get the information he needs from this bounty hunter. But also. . .

Plans on how to make the man suffer most.

* • ˚ ∆ ˚ • *

Padmé shifts lightly in her seat. She shivers against the light chill that marks the air, and she crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to conserve warmth.

When she was taken, no thought was taken into any minor details, especially not her dress.

Padmé is currently dressed in her thin sleep clothes. The nightgown offers little in the way of warmth.

Her feet and hands feel like blocks of ice.

Again, she shivers. Padmé feels as though she is growing ever colder, as though the metal walls around her are exuding a chill of their own.

After coaxing her out of her room, Mon had led her to this new room. This chamber, is equipped with only a set of chairs, and a table set between them.

In short. . .an interrogation room.

Now, Padmé simply supposes that she is waiting for her interrogator to arrive.

Padmé rubs her arms briskly in an attempt to spark some warmth on her chilled skin. She is just about to get up, to walk around and hopefully cause some blood to flow to her frozen feet, when the door to the chamber slides open.

And in walks the _last person _Padmé wants to see.

_Terric._

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • ***

(Coruscant's Undercity)

Caaldra stumbles lightly as he exits the bar. His footsteps are a bit unsteady as he makes walks away from the establishment.

The bounty hunter blinks lightly to clear his vision before he moves forward once more.

_It's not like I had that many drinks_, he thinks to himself.

Caaldra is just considering heading to a new cantina, perhaps one of the clubs. . .when he feels it.

The feeling can only be described as a light tremor, a slight warning. A chill touches the air, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

Caaldra pauses in his steps, and he is immediately on alert. However, his senses are unbalanced, they are dimmed by the effects of the alcohol.

The streets around him are mostly empty. Only a few stragglers make their way down the grimy, dark streets of the lower levels.

Caaldra slowly scans his surroundings, searching for the source of this noise.

A dark alley stretches off to his right. Here, shadows dance. Anything could be lurking, lying wait in this darkness.

Caaldra shakes himself, and he tries to push this feeling away. He is just starting to walk along once more. . .when it happens.

The air snaps lightly, it crackles with energy. Caaldra's vision spins as he is dragged forward.

The next thing he knows, he is pinned against the rough wall of the alley. An iron grip is at his throat, effectively cutting off any air to his lungs.

Caaldra gasps at the force with which he is thrown against the wall. Pain erupts across his ribs as the bones are crashed against the steel surface. A light gurgling erupts from his throat as the unknown force increases its pressure on his throat.

Then, suddenly, the pressure is gone.

Caaldra falls to the ground. He gasps, and his lungs burn as he struggles to draw in air.

However, before he can truly recover, a powerful force slams into his side. His ribs crack as he is kicked against the wall.

A whimper escapes the bounty hunter as the still unknown attack roughly rolls him over.

Hands dig into the fabric of his shirt, and they slam his fallen form against the wall once more. Here, the bounty hunter is pinned.

Finally, Caaldra gets a glimpse of his attacker.

The man's features are smudged, hidden in the shadows of his cloak. However, Caaldra can clearly make out his attacker's eyes. They burn brightly in the night, and, while the man's expression is otherwise void of emotion, they are alight with a hurricane of emotions.

_Fury. Rage. Anger. Hate._

All directed. . .at Caaldra.

The bounty hunter wants nothing more than to run away, to put as much distance as he can between him and this man.

Because, though he does not know a thing about his attacker, he has seen looks like that before.

It is the look of a man who is desperate, yet determined. A man who will crawl his way to his goal if he has to, a man who will tear apart _anyone _who stands in his way.

And from what he's seen from the man so far, unlike many whom have worn expressions such as this, his attacker appears to be_ quite _capable of succeeding in his goals.

For the first time in a long while. . .

Caaldra is afraid.

"Wh. . .what do-do you w-want?" Caaldra mutters. Every word, every breath sends a tremor of pain through his body. The area around his ribs (which he is sure are broken) pulses in a mind numbing ache.

However, Caaldra finds that he is unable to focus on a thing such as trivial as the pain he is feeling now.

Because, the man, upon hearing his garbled question. . .smiles.

Instantly, Caaldra is reminded of a next, of a predator stalking its prey in the night.

"I need. . .information," the man hisses, his voice surprisingly even, "on. . .your last mission. Tell me, who hired you?"

Caaldra blinks lightly, and surprise flickers within him.

"I. . .don't know much about the target. . .some senator I guess. . ." Caaldra murmurs, "don't know who hired me 'xactly. . .some lady. . ."

His attacker stiffens at this, and Caaldra winces as the man presses him harder against the wall. A fresh burst of pain ruptures through his chest.

"Can you describe her?" the man snarls, a dangerous note in his tone. The man's voice flickers with impatience.

Caadra hurries to answer.

"B-better!" he snaps, an uneasy smile touching his lips, "I re-recorded the. . .the whole thing! Security p-purposes you. . .you see - ."

The man cuts him off before he can continue. Caaldra can feel the danger growing with every passing second, just as he feels his own chances for survival. . .growing slim.

"Where?"

The man's simple, one worded question needs no explanation. Immediately, Caaldra tries to reach for the holo-projector in his pocket. However, the hands pinning him against the wall stop any movement.

"Left. . .left pocket. . ." Caaldra mutters, and he gestures to the pouch at his waist.

The hands holding him fast are released, and a moment later they have the holo-projector in their hands.

A few seconds pass. . .and a flickering image appears in the air.

It depicts the shadowy figures of a man (him), a woman laying bridal style in his arms. . .and one final person.

This figure steps out of the shadows, moving to intercept Caaldra and his charge.

Upon seeing this figure, Caaldra's attacker stiffens.

Instantly, a wave of dark rage rolls through the alley. The bounty hunter shivers as this energy washes over him.

With a light _crunch _the man crushes the holo-projector in his hand. Then. . .the man turns to face Caaldra once more.

Tremors of fear race through Caaldra, but he forces a smile onto his face. Perhaps, maybe. . .he can talk his way out of this. . .

"I. . .I gave you what you w-wanted," Caaldra stutters, his voice wavering under the intensity of the golden eyes, "th-that means. . .you. . .you'll let m-me go?"

The question comes off as more of a plea than the demand the bounty hunter had hoped for. Light shivers wrack his body, and every tremor causes him only more pain.

The man, his face still hidden in shadow, stares at him for several long seconds. For a moment, Caaldra feels a tremor of hope.

Then. . .the smile returns.

Only this time, it carries a far heavier note of ferocity, of mad joy.

"Hmm. . .you have given me what I want," the man says softly, "however. . .I fear I cannot let you go."

The man laughs lightly, amusement flickering across his features. . .

Before, suddenly, it is gone.

The change is instantaneous. So quick it is as though a switch has been flipped. Rage, fury, and something _far darker _flicker across the man's face. . .

And then, there is only pain.

It starts as a humming Caaldra's veins, and a pounding in his brain. Quickly, though, the feeling spreads, and it grows in intensity. Fire courses through his limbs as his bones begin to splinter.

Caaldra opens his mouth to scream, however, he finds that he is unable to make a sound. Some unknown force holds his vocal chords, rendering them useless.

The pain grows, it spreads, it _consumes._

It continues, on and on. . .for a small eternity.

And then, only when the darkness of unconsciousness is threatening his mind. . .when the blackness of oblivion is fast approaching. . .

Only then does the man end his pain.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • * **

A firm snap, a flick of the Vader's wrist, and Caaldra's body falls. . .lifeless.

Slowly, Vader rises. He easily slips away from the scene. He is but another shadow in the dark. . .a predator on the hunt.

For now, Vader has his true target.

The image of the Chandrilan senator flickers through his mind. The picture of her, ordering Padmé's lifeless form to be brought forward. . .

Vader burns with fury.

For, when he does find those responsible for this. . .Caaldra's death will look like mercy.

*** • ˚ ∆ ˚ • * **

**More to come. . .Padmé-Terric interrogation time!**

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